When I was a teen, I had big dreams of being famous one day. I would have loved to be an actress or a singer in Hollywood. I went as far as to go to school in LA. I studied communications, hoping to break into the industry. But after 4 years of living the life, I realized Hollywood was a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. I don't have time or space to go into all the ugly details of the experiences I had that led me to that conclusion. But it was a devastating blow to accept that dream would never be realized.
One of the biggest let-downs was accepting I would never be famous. In my world, being famous meant being great, and being great was everything. Ironically, it was my deep faith that helped me accept the new reality, as I also desired to be great in Jesus' eyes (which was quite a contrary thing from greatness in Hollywood!). I ended up in seminary and decided to be great as a minister leading a congregation. That too, came with its challenges, and years later I was forced to face the reality that even striving for greatness within the church is still a play for greatness.
Jesus praised the ones who did not strive for greatness, but who emptied themselves. Now that I work at home, I've once again had to accept emptiness. I no longer have a congregation to lift me up with their praises. It has been a hard transition to accept my extraordinary normalness. I spent my whole life trying to be great. And now I'm simply... me. And I am enough.
An argument arose among them as to which one of them was the greatest. But Jesus, aware of their inner thoughts, took a little child and put it by his side, and said to them, “Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest.”