A Dose of Kryptonite
I think some part of each and every one of us wants to be something other than an ordinary, vanilla mortal. It's why fairy tales and comic books appeal to us all, why we all dress up and run around in masks on Halloween, why fiction books sail off the shelves. We all want to be "more than": more than a desk jockey, more than a factory worker, more than a whatever-we-are-now. Our imaginations take a look at ordinary life and decide we'd rather be Superman.
But even Superman has to worry about kryptonite.
We'll never be perfect this side of eternity. We'll never have superpowers, whether they're leaping tall buildings in a single bound or being able to talk to fish (although being able to perfectly fold fitted sheets comes close). God didn't make a world of superheroes and supervillains. He made a mundane world full of ordinary people and told them, "Because I love you, that will be enough. You're special to me. You don't need to be anything else."
Rarely are we satisfied with that much. It's not enough to be a beloved teacher, pastor, or accountant. Instead we try to become superteachers, superpastors, and superaccountants. While there's certainly nothing wrong with wanting to be the best you can be, it's easy to latch on to an impossible "best" you can never attain and turn it into an idol. Instead of following God, we pursue our superwhatever, chase that impossible ideal. This is not good.
Today let me throw some kryptonite at your superthing. Come back to earth, the one which needs you -- not a superyou. Return to worshiping the God who made you and loves you as you are.