My favorite part of Christmas.

Is still coming to the front of the balcony during Christmas Eve service and watching the flickering candlelight slowly fill the room.

In the past, I've always mourned the un-importance of my single candle flame. I'm just one light in a room full of thousands of lights, how could I possibly be important? I'm just one person in a world with billions of people, how could I ever be significant? Nobody would know if my flame just ceased to exist.

But today as I knelt there at the edge of the balcony, holding my single candle flame, I realized how beautiful it is that I am part of this world, and how precious my one life is.

I may be one single light, but that light is precious. Today I realized that who I am doesn't have to be someone who's wildly unique, original, decisive, and sure. I don't have to spend all my effort trying to make myself -- or even discover myself -- into someone who's "unique" or "set apart."

I am a part of this world. I am one light in a sea of little lights, and it's okay.

A lot of my Christian upbringing has included a large dose of the "you are unique and special" message. And while I don't deny that, I think it has a tendency to make us (or at least me) feel as if I must be better and more special than everyone else in the world.

But -- and I'm going to link you up to this post again because that's how good it is --

There is power in being common.

"If I am...a wise person-- I will seek to understand the things that all men share inside of themselves, instead of the things that set them apart from each other. Why was my self-value wrapped up in the ways that I perceive myself differing from other men?" (Gray)

This little light of mine is wild and precious. It can start fires. It's just the same as everyone else's -- but it's mine. It was lit by my Creator. And I'm going to live it, love it, and let it shine.