Once a nobody, always a nobody. Gideon would have done well to have remembered that. Instead, thinking he was somebody after his great victories (with which he had nothing to do), is what got him into trouble. He didn’t finish well.
The history of Christian music is a history of nobodies becoming somebodies and forgetting they were nobodies. What went wrong? It was the “somebody” stage that ruined it. A nobody God uses is just a nobody God uses.
When God calls you out and does something great and mighty in your life, that’s all God. You don’t get any extra credit for that. You just showed up.
Paul called himself an Apostle of the church not for the purpose of status, but to indicate his leadership role in the church. That’s why he was always quick to label himself as a servant — in some cases, slave — of Christ. He was a nobody serving a great Somebody.
Somebodies have privileges. Somebodies get to play by a different set of rules from everybody else. Somebodies create their own class separate from everybody else (like the Pharisees); they get their own clubhouse. Somebodies, unfortunately, look down on everybody else. You have to have a back-stage pass to get in with the somebodies. If ever you start thinking like this — as if you now belong to a different class — a little red flag of warning should go up: “Look out, you’re starting to think you are somebody.”
Nobodies God uses shun these kinds of things. Mother Theresa was a great example of that. She chose to stay poor in order to live and work among the poor. She didn’t like being singled out.
To be sure, when it comes to value and worth, we all are somebody in God’s eyes, but that’s all of us, equally. Think of it like this: In God’s eyes we’re all somebodies, in our own eyes we should all be nobodies. That should help us all keep it straight.
A nobody God uses is just a nobody God uses.