When my youngest was about two, I tried to tape him talking to his Grandmother ‘Poppy,’ who lived a long way from us.  As I turned the tape on, he froze. Finally, I prompted him, “Tell ‘Poppy’ your name.”  In anguish, he shouted, “I’m somebody! I’m somebody!”

Reflecting on his cry, I’ve recognized it as the deepest longing of every heart.

Once, as I was going deeper and deeper into a cavern with my geology teacher brother pointing out levels of rock more and more eons old, I felt like I was shrinking into nothing but a pinpoint dot in eternity. But suddenly as in my mind came the words, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lamb of God,” I realized why Jesus came to earth as a helpless, homeless baby and why ragged, smelly shepherds were the first to see him and know that he was the long-awaited Messiah. It was so even the least of us would know that we matter to God.

Years later, I was alone in the middle of the night on a hilltop in the soft silence of a new fallen snow. I was literally stunned to see more stars than I had ever even imagined. Again, I had that feeling of being infinitesimally small in the scheme of things. But then I realized that I am a part of God’s creation. Without me, there would be an empty space. That without any one of us, God’s kingdom would be incomplete. It would be like a beautiful painting with a tiny unfinished blank space or a jigsaw puzzle missing a piece. Or even more, it would be like a tiny lost lamb to a loving shepherd.

When we bow in our hearts in worship, feeling our spirit kneel before the magnificence of God, listen for His voice saying, “I am your God. The least of you belong to me. Jesus is my Love fleshed out for all. Go tell all others that they are a beloved child of God.”