Insignificance...

...is one of the greatest fears that we humans deal with. Ask any 40 year old man who drives a sports car. Or any woman mad at being left out of the supper club. Or any teenager who thinks of themselves as utterly forgettable. We place our value in things, acceptance and adoration and not in what ultimately counts.

It's not that we are truly insignificant, but it's that we often feel small or, worse, overlooked completely. Isn't it wonderful that we have a Father in heaven who says that we are anything but forgettable. He knows the very number of hairs on your head. For those who may be follicularly challenged and less than impressed, he goes a step farther stating that the number of thoughts he has for you numbers the sands of the ocean. You are, after all, his ultimate masterpiece.

What? You don't feel like a masterpiece? True, like anyone, you are not perfect and live in a broken world. But insignificant? No, you are a creation worthy of the constant thoughts of a Creator. Amazing.

In fact, I'm thinking about calling each one of you, dear friends, and letting you know that you are on my mind. But, alas, I have misplaced your numbers. And most of your names.

Daisy Is Very Different...

...than our previous love hound, Flossie. For one thing, she ain't the brightest bulb in the box. But for what she lacks in intelligence, she makes up for in love, laughs and a heavy dose of cutiepieness.

For instance, yesterday I spent quite a bit of time cleaning her up, nice and tidy, spic and span. It's a bit tricky because she does pretty well until it's time to rinse. Then she decides she's had enough, thank you very much, so you'd better keep your grip her collar (tail works too) or she's gone, suds and all. She might be 50 pounds of SC ditch-dog, but she can run like a scalded cat when inspired.

Anyway, I've been very proud of my grooming efforts since yesterday afternoon. Today, however, I put a portable sprinkler in the backyard to drench a particularly dry part of the lawn. Apparently, the grass wasn't all that was thirsty because Daisy, as evidence, loves a bath- at least when I'm not there. And the best way to dry off after you've soaked yourself in the strange outdoor shower your master put out for you? Why roll in the grass and mud, of course.

I would kill her, but it is pretty hot out there. And I've never been able to resist an outdoor shower either.

Chow Fung...

...meekly walked onstage, her hands folded and eyes staring straight ahead. The announcer from the stage then began to read the laundry list of accolades earned that year, just a handful of her 7th grade accomplishments. Excellence in mathematics; Excellence in Language Arts; Excellence in Music, Duke TIP Grand Finalist; etc. etc. etc. The young Asian girl stood silent all the while, a bit embarrassed in front of the large audience, their wide-eyed faces looking on in astonishment at the length of time it took to read all of her awards earned.

My daughter, Meredith had gone sometime before young Ms. Fung, earning Excellence in Language Arts and Drama (this I know well). But I couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like to be the child collecting their awards, just AFTER Chow Fung. The poor child that did, a young lady earning a perfect attendance award, must have felt a bit... cheated. After all, this was her moment- a culmination of her investment meeting a bit of hard-earned recognition! Was is too much to ask for a little limelight? However, in the wake of Chow Fung her award fell on deaf ears, silenced by the tall shadow of an obvious genius. This poor girl, a victim only of the order of presentation had been, if you will, "Chow Funged". Her tiny candle extinguished by the backdraft of comparison.

I can't tell you how many times in life that has happened to me. I explained to my girls afterward that whatever the situation, as long as you have done your best- your very best- then you can be proud of your accomplishments. Comparisons in life are inevitable, however you should always celebrate your own accomplishments no matter how they look next to someone elses. The reality is, even Ms. Fung may not have accomplished all that she wanted in 7th grade. If that is the case, then too bad. Perhaps even the presentation of all those awards felt a bit empty to her. It's really a matter of what your goals are and what you personally achieve. The real secret, I suppose, is to make sure your goals are lofty enough to make you stretch for them. If you do, then that is enough.

Later that night, in celebration I took the family out for Mexican food, still in awe of my little red-head, Meredith. She delights me and makes me proud.

Have you ever felt cheated by a comparison? Who was your Chow Fung?