Growing up my parents felt the need to ring it into my ears that I wasn’t special.
Of course they loved me;I was their bundle of Joy, they just didn’t want me being puffed up and snotty because I thought I was special.
Somewhere along the line I found myself buying the mentality that there’s nothing special about anyone. We’re all just messed up human beings living this goddamn life.
I thought I was deceiving myself thinking I was special; Maybe if I accepted that I wasn’t different and better than other people failing wouldn’t hurt so much.
All of that was faux humility.
Contrary to popular opinion, recognising that you’re special and being confident about it is not the same thing as ‘thinking highly of yourself’.
Looking through my lineage in Christ, I realise that I come from Royalty.
But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.
(1 Peter 2:9 KJV)
If having someone die for you doesn’t mean you’re special, I don’t know what does.
As a Human:
I’m a dweeb. Obscure, frail, never gets anything right, enormous failure.
I’m a pearl of inestimable value, God’s own special possession. King-priest. Excellent and full of glory.
I choose Christ.