Take a second to stop what you’re doing and think about this for a moment:
You are one person among an estimated seven billion people who reside together with you on this blue and green ball we call “Earth.”
You occupy one single space in one single location in one single moment in time…and there are seven billion (7,000,000,000) others like you.
Every one of them has a story.
Every one of them has a viewpoint from which they see the world.
And that’s just right now, in this very moment.
The Population Reference Bureau has estimated that more than 107 billion people have ever lived on earth, spanning some estimated 52,000 years.
And I’m only one of them.
One in 107 billion.
And that only accounts for the number of people who have already lived or are already living. I couldn’t possibly take into account those who have yet to be born.
Mind blowing, isn’t it.
So when I’m tempted to believe that I know the whole truth (specifically when it comes to God and the universe) — when my pride flies out of control and I am tempted to believe I’ve got it all figured out — I would do good to remember I’m just one person occupying one single space in one single location in one single moment in time.
I don’t know it all and I won’t know it all.
Perhaps I can know some, and I believe I do. But when I stop to consider where I fall in the scheme of human existence, I get the feeling that whatever I do seem to know should be held with much humility and flexibility.
That what I see now I only see “indistinctly, as in a mirror,” knowing whatever small part I do know will only be blown away by what is to come.