I don’t wear a cape. I don’t have a bat cave. I don’t even fly an invisible jet. I’m just me. The only super I’m ever associated with is super-smelly or, on good days, super-average. It turns out that I can’t fly, I’m not made out of rubber, and I can’t communicate with fish. I thought about getting a big red “S” tattooed on my chest, but the thought of having to nip and tuck that thing to keep it from morphing into some type of geriatric calligraphy isn’t exciting. While I’m rarely accused of being normal, my version of abnormal will not cause a movie about my super-powers to come out this summer. On top of all that, nobody likes the idea of seeing me in spandex.
The only thing that sets me apart is the work of the Lord in me. I got saved over 30 years ago, and He has been busy refining and transforming me since that day. Sometimes its hard for people to imagine that I could be less refined. It’s not hard for me to remember those days. It does me good to think about how much the Lord has done in me, to be reminded of how far He has brought me. I may not be a super-hero, but I am becoming more Christ-like. To tell you the truth, it’s better to be like Him than to be in a comic book. There is so much to be thankful for. God is good…all the time.