One of the things that not everybody knows about me is that my parents were missionaries. This means that I was raised by people who many other people looked up to and idealized. (If you are an outsider to the Christian faith, there’s a degree of in-house celebrity that comes with the missionary title.) My dad is fairly well known, in his circles. Our family knew Important People, and Important People knew us. And growing up, I had complicated feelings about that.

When I got married I was actually relieved to exchange my maiden name, for the boring, common name of Collins that would allow me to just blend in with the crowd and dodge that infrequent but uncomfortable question, “Are you so and so’s daughter?”

One of the things that I love about God, is that He does not show partiality. When He looks at humanity, all He sees are Important People. People who were important enough to Him to send his Son to die for them. He is completely unimpressed with who you know, how much you make, or how many likes you got on your last Facebook post. He does not value you according to your paycheck, education level, or job title. He is just as interested in the Walmart cashier as He is your favorite celebrity.

And you know what? Knowing that a Person like that is running the universe… I feel a little safer and happier inside.

***

But I lost my way. Back to farting. One of the things my dad used to say to me was, “All men have feet of clay, Sara.” I think that was his way of trying to push back on the idealization that was directed toward him as a spiritual leader.

For me, that is one of the lasting benefits of growing up as I did. Since I grew up around people who were deemed Important and Spiritual, it has left me less inclined to idealize people with power. All men have feet of clay. Or as the saying goes, everyone puts their pants on the same way. Or, because I am a boy mom, my version of that phrase is: everybody farts.

And God loves us great and small.