You might see a tool- let's say a hammer. If you had never seen a hammer, had never known what it could do- if you had only seen telescopes, let's say, a hammer would look pretty ugly to you. What good would it be? It can't even see the stars. It has no pretty brass or glass parts. You would turn it over and over in your hands, and try to look through it. You might shake it around a little bit. You might run your hands over its metal head, and wooden handle. You might try again to look through it, and curse it a little, and eventually throw it away in frustration.

Or, you might see a telescope. The only tools you ever knew were hammers. Those are super useful, like: the heavy end does wonders when it meets a nail. So you go around pounding in every nail you see with your favourite hammer- actually, you hit everything with your hammer, but that's another story. And then here's this thing, shiny brass and glass. It's sort of similar to your hammer, but not really. After looking it over for a while, you lift it and hit the nail in front of you. The brass dents, the glass shatters. I mean what the. You throw it away. Stupid hammer design.

I heard a sermon at church yesterday that really got me thinking. (I got the title and the word hammer roughly from what the pastor was saying, but I was mostly drifting :) So the rest is actually from years of personal experience). We are hammers to the people who only know telescopes - or, telescopes to people who only know hammers. So, why do we allow people to determine our worth, our value? Why do you ask a lover of hammers who you are, Telescope?

You have a design that the world can't begin to understand: only God, the maker of you, could know. Your purpose was designed by Him. This is a sacred thing, the power to say who you are, or what you're here for. A sacred thing, the power to tell you your worth and value. Not even those who love you best can truly know this. They see your general shape on the outside, they see your actions, and they think they know you. You think they do, too.

But sacred things belong rightly to God. There is no person on earth who knew from the start what you were coming here for, what you would be capable of achieving. No person who knows why you've gone through what you've gone through, and why you have the lumps and bumps you have. No one understands your scars, or the true shape of your soul. And yet we are constantly asking the people around us to put a number to these things, to say what we are on a scale of one to ten.

But here's the good news. Once you remember that people are just people, and that God is truly God- then you will remember what is sacred. And once you know that, you will know again that what is sacred truly belongs to him- the power to say what you're worth, to tell you your identity, your purpose. And when you do remember, you have the power to stop going to those idols to ask them about these things. You'll find the strength to say no, thank you, when someone offers to put a dollar sign on your worth according to them. To lock the door when someone comes to tell you your experience, your view of the world means nothing. And when someone accuses you of not living up to some idealised version of you, you'll remember that they never actually knew what you were here for- and you will return to the one who does.

Wake up, o you sleeper.

Build up your walls.