Special

I was reading a story to Lily a few days ago, and one of the pages said, "And since you are so special, God wanted to put you in just the right home. Where you would be warm when it's cold, where you'd be safe when you're afraid, where you'd have fun and learn about heaven." (Max Lucado) Now I love Max Lucado, don't misunderstand that, but this has bothered me for a few days. I'm just thinking that if I was from a home where I wasn't kept safe or warm or well fed, then the natural logic from this text would be that I'm not special.

Now, I am warm or cool, whichever I prefer. I have a sizable house, hot and cold water from multiple faucets, plenty of furniture, enough food that I can be choosy and let even let some ruin, health/dental/life insurance, and friends and family who love me. I have a car (two even!) and enough money to put gas in it whenever needed. There may not be money for extravagant purchases, but I have everything I need and a great deal of what I want. However, I am no less special than someone who lacks every one of these things. I did nothing to deserve to be born into a working class family any more than the orphan in Rwanda did to merit being born into genocide and poverty. And neither of us is more or less special to God. 

This isn't the first time I've struggled with this. For the first few months after we chose to sponsor Yeimi through Compassion, I would wonder, especially when I looked at my kids, why God would put her there and me here if He loves us all. It wasn't a passing question, I really puzzled over it for a long while. Finally, I got a clear answer. The answer was that I have all of my needs met with money left over so that God can take care of Yeimi through us. She is just as special to God as Lily is. Now I have to make sure that she stays as special to me. The grace is free for the taking, but we just can't choose to keep it for ourselves.