Growing up was hellish. I didn’t start living till the middle of my twelfth year, and I only got life about two years ago. Given my upbringing, I was ways out of tune with superheroes. My first superhero was Spiderman, and I never knew Ant man till three-four months ago (see how poor I was in that field).
But you know the stuff with the first girl you like in high school? She’s the best. Always the best. Until she hammers your heart, or you meet another. So it was with Spiderman. I thought he was the best. I’d run errands for mum and imagine jumping on roofs of the sparse tall buildings in our street and swinging unto poles.
My imaginations were and are still weird and wild. Sitting in church then, I’d conjure a robbery taking place and I being the superhero. (No kidding!) However, I didn’t want any spider bite. I wanted no part in genes alteration or Mary Jane break up.
It wasn’t long before I realized: being a superhero presents super suffering. And that trend was established with Ironman, then Superman and Batman. All strong guys. All with irreparable damages and great losses. Which led to this conclusion: There’s no one better than the other.
And another: Having special abilities is wielding a double edged sword. On one hand, you get to do what others envy – meet the needs of the old man faster than anyone, save the city/state/country. On the other hand, there’s pressure and price.
Pressure to do more. Price to sustain the abilities. Till the hero almost cracks and is in dire need of encouragement. Like Peter Parker. Or Clark Kent.
Or Seth Border. That genius dude in Blink of an Eye by Ted Dekker. Ask Seth if you dare. Special abilities are dangerous. And powerful. Of recent, I discovered this. Everyone has special abilities. We just don’t hone them. Given, the superheroes were modified by experiments and bites, but we have those gifts in us.
He who created us far transcends the abilities of Super men. For example, I easily pick out people’s physique from afar, even with their back to me. And there’s the ease of memorizing figures. I’ve met people with breathtaking speed or tear-producing voices. Everyone’s got it.
So. You. Are. Superman. However. Unlikely. I’d advice, don’t be afraid of the special ability you have. Be it picking out scents and classifying them. You’ve got it for a purpose. The Father is always ready to say why.
Be not shy nor puffed up. In truth, we all can be puffed up, and then the other side of the sword appears. Unless we get to our knees and acknowledge how weak we are even with those abilities to the One who alone is ever strong, special abilities are dangerous.
When we give glory to He who deserves it, then we can rejoice in our abilities.
Like I am today. My math ability tells me its three months since I started blogging. I’m grateful for everyone who reads my blog. Thank you. Permit me to ask, what would you do if you were gifted a day as your favorite superhero.
Afterword: We who are in Jesus Christ have all that we need for life and godliness. And you’re always welcome to join if you’re yet to.