“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost…Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live.” – Isaiah 55.1,3

Fifty-four years ago today (the day that I am writing this), Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee.

Forty-nine years ago today, the building of the World Trade Towers in Manhattan was completed.

One-hundred and six years ago today, the battle of the Somme (World War I) was fought in France.

One-hundred and seven years ago today, Muddy Waters was born in Mississippi.

Thirty-six years ago today I participated in track practice in Atlantic, Iowa. I was a 7th-grader and, physically, looked incredibly unimposing. My arms were embarrassingly skinny. Braces on my teeth. A glaringly large pimple on my chin, most likely.

My exploits on that Southwest Iowa track were hardly comparable to the birth of a great musician or the death of a great leader or the significance of a world war or some architectural feat. As a 13-year old, I was familiar with the “I Have Dream” speech and had seen the New York towers and had no idea who Muddy Waters was (other than what our local stream looked like in the summertime). But I knew that I was terrified of girls and was beginning to smell bad after practices (and, for that matter, before them, too). I knew that there were other people and places in the world, but I had the naive belief that I was the center of the universe.

Something happened the next year: During track season I gave my life to Jesus Christ. Nobody is going to put that in a history book. At the time, nobody outside of my family, church, and circle of friends probably cared. No one is going to put that “event” on par with a significant cultural event like the murder of MLJ or terrorism on US soil or the birth of a genius musician. But my “new birth” was the most significant thing that had ever happened to me, and always will be. It is significant to my wife, who married a Christian man (grossly imperfect, but seeking to honor her and follow Christ nonetheless). It is significant to my children, who have grown up hearing that Jesus loves them. It is significant to my parents, who don’t have sleepless nights wondering if their son is lost. It was, and is, significant, even though outside of my small sphere of influence no one knew.

I didn’t really see it coming, either. Not when I was a goofy-looking 7th grader trying to run extra fast around the track (and hoping that I didn’t trip) when the girls were watching during practice. I didn’t see it coming any more than I saw 9/11 coming.

A few days ago, my friend Rick and I had had coffee at a local Philadelphia coffee shop. We talked about Jesus (because even as we talk about the 76ers and work and C.S. Lewis we always talk about Jesus). That was an important day. Every day since being confronted with Christ has dripped with significance in ways that I can’t even imagine. Every day, every hour, every moment matters.

You matter. What you do matters. You are significant. You are made by a God who made you and loves you and has given you a grand purpose. There is no such thing as an insignificant moment.

Every person you will come in contact with will be affected by you - the power of Christ in you. At ServingLeaders, we believe that caring for pastors and ministry leaders is so important precisely because of the impact you will have on your churches, families, and friends. There will be a ripple effect, wherein Christ’s kingdom will advance more and more as people are exposed to the Good News of Jesus Christ. Through you!

You may doubt this idea as you are reading this, but it will be so. Maybe in ways you can’t quite put your finger on. As you minister to those around you, you are explicitly in word or implicitly through your actions proclaiming Christ for the sake of His glory and the world’s joy. And you will have an impact.