This world isn’t entirely fair, is it? At least, it’s not fair if fairness involves everybody being given an equal chance to succeed, an equal chance to make something of themselves, an equal chance to make good on their gifts and talents.
Just across town is one of the finest and most expensive private schools in the world. Tuition at Appleby College is creeping ever closer to six figures a year, but the education its students receive is unparalleled. I sometimes wonder what I could have been or what I could have accomplished had I gone to a school like that instead of the public and Christian schools I went to. Under that kind of tutelage, could I have actually come to understand the math and sciences and gone on to become an engineer or scientist? Could there have been an English Lit teacher there who would have taken me under his wing and helped foster my love of poetry? What difference might that kind of education have made in my life? I don’t know, and I never will know, of course.
Just north of town is a highly regarded rugby club. What if my parents had enrolled me in a club like that? What if they had loved sports and wanted me to play? Could I have found a love for hockey that would motivate me to succeed and excel and become a great player? Could that have unveiled some latent athletic gifts?
Maybe I could have learned to cook and become a chef. Maybe I could have learned woodworking and become an artisan. Maybe I could have learned an instrument and become a virtuoso. Maybe I could have been any of these if only my circumstances had been different, if only I had been given different opportunities, if only the world had been just a bit more fair.
But then I suppose it’s not that the world is unfair. It’s that our horizons are not as expansive as we might wish them to be. It’s that our opportunities are not as broad as we might wish them to be. It’s that we ourselves are limited. We cannot be everything. We cannot do everything. We cannot be everything we might have been in a different life and cannot do everything we might have done had we been different people.
Joseph’s place was in the prison, Aaron’s place was in the tabernacle, Esther’s place was in the palace, and my place is right where he’s placed me.
It is good to know that God is sovereign over all of this. He puts each one of us within the circumstances in which we can best thrive, in which we can best serve him, in which we can best honor Him. Joseph’s place was in the prison, Aaron’s place was in the tabernacle, Esther’s place was in the palace, and my place is right where he’s placed me. In that way, it doesn’t matter what I might have been, as long as I am succeeding in what I actually am, as long as I am trusting that this is where He wants me, and as long as I am being who He wants me to be. He doesn’t call me to live another man’s life or maximize another man’s talents. He calls me to serve him just where and how I am. My station, my field, my area of responsibility is exactly the one he has called me to, and I simply need to trust that he knows best.
And then I am quite certain that part of the joy of heaven will be discovering what I could have been. I will have all of eternity to explore my gifts and develop new ones, to enjoy my talents and foster others. I will have all of eternity to explore, enjoy, develop, and foster. It is in heaven that I will finally know who I might have been, and in heaven that I will have time, opportunity, and endless ages to become it.
