Signs of insignificance
- 2 hours ago
- 2 min read
Perfectionism. Comparison. Imposter Syndrome.
Anxiety, loneliness, fear.
These are the kinds of things that might — strangely — plague a long queue of stockbrokers with second-rate sandwiches who are emerging from their long confinement in a lift.
Impatience. Intolerance. Indignation.
It's a strange phenomenon.
They think it's because the sandwiches aren't up to scratch, but really it's all a matter of a shifting paradigm. Lift to corridor. Slavery to freedom.
The focus for so long was on targets and profits and winning. But the plug's been pulled on the old scenario, and it's a kind of whiplash, stepping back, having other priorities, trying to keep their eye on the ball long enough to actually make it to where they set their minds to go in the first place.
Because when you've been walking THAT long…
there comes a time…
when you start to doubt things.
Why didn't we stay put?
Is this the right corridor?
Does it actually have an end point?
And after a while, you'd want answers.
And you'd want proof.
Or at least strong evidence.
A sign.
Something significant to point to.
Meaning. Force. Significance.
Significare.
Yes, that sounds about right.
(Not that I know Latin. I looked it up.)
Not just important.
Relevant.
Not just relevant.
Meaningful.
True.
A sign.
And then Isaiah 7.
The famous Christmas reading.
The sign given by the Lord.
A person.
God with us.
In the lift with us.
In the corridor with us.
Reading a blog post with us.
And as we write.
Someone to trust.
Meaningfully.
Which is not the same as a system that says, We have identified an intervention that appears to work.
Systems at scale can't possibly comment on that. Truth isn't really their fish to fry. As long as it helps though, then great. If not, well — putting your feet up has had some excellent reviews. Ask your doctor if putting your feet up is right for you.
And then, rather strangely, when the people around Jesus ask Him for a sign, He gives them Jonah.
Jonah.
Which is not quite what you'd expect.
Or perhaps exactly what you'd expect.
Jonah (calling, detour, big fish, small worm, chip on shoulder) is a story about what happens when you think you know what really matters.
And you really don't.
Someone who thinks he's more significant than the people he's been called to help.
As if he's the one who decides what counts.
And (knowing better, really!) trying to avoid the awkward conversation.
But honestly —
What's at stake?
Who is carrying the can?
It's the kind of a moment that my fiction book project Papercuts and Paper Planes is based on. Two men called Bob, both hit hard times in their own way. Fortunately systems are there to help them.
Lol. Define help.
Hmm.
Want to say something back?
If this gets you pondering, does something strange to your insides, unsettles you with my unfounded conclusions, or sends you somewhere I haven't thought of, I'd be glad to hear from you.
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