I like (Grammy award winning hip-hop artist) Lecrae.

I have purchased (a lot of) his music.

I watched him on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon perform a few of his tracks with the in-house band, The Roots, from his new album, Anomaly (which, by the way, debuted at #1 on Billboard 200 and is currently #35).

According to Christianity Today, it was the first time a Christian rapper has ever performed on late night television.

Before we Tim Tebow this situation, I'd like to help us think through a few reasons why Lecrae ain't nothing special.

Lecrae's talent speaks for itself. He began his music career as a part of a growing movement of artists like Sho Baraka, Shai Linne, Trip Lee, Flame, Anthony Mineo, and others who are producing excellent hip hop songs with a reformed edge. Because the mainstream hip hop engine is fueled by aggressive and explicit lyrics, the arresting (and even theologically controversial within evangelicalism) message in most reformed rap fits like a new pair of Jordan's on a blue-chip high school basketball prospect.

This is why it shouldn't surprise us that Lecrae's popularity has resulted in a Grammy, a appearance on late night television, and a national tour that is selling out many large venues. We should expect the missiologically strategic sub-genre of reformed rap to produce music that is attractive to a mainstream hip hop audience because it is performed thoughtfully with cultural awareness and excellence.

But, let's not lose our individual vocational trees by being star struck with the entertainment industry's forest.

As a good reformed artist, Lecrae knows he is just a microphone in the hands of the Master MC who is amplifying a message that existed long before TuPac faked his own death (like a delusional Elvis fan, I still hold out hope).

Yet, Lecrae can fall faster than his album Gravity rose to win a Grammy.

And that's okay.

The gravitas of Lecrae's theology demands that he think of himself as grounded to an earthly existence that is utterly fallen. Inescapably bound to a heart that is enslaved to its own desires apart from divine intervention.

That ain't a flowery view of oneself that permits self-aggrandizement.

It's hopeless in itself.

Rap about it in any way that he might like, but, like every other creature spinning at 67,000 miles per hour on this pile of dirt in outer space, he ain't nuthin'.

Lecrae knows this and raps about it passionately.

But, do you?

Lecrae's calling to produce excellent art for the joy of millions needs constant, theological reflection that keeps his pride in check.

But, most of us are not headlining national tours with our name in lights. The majority of our vocations do not demand us to humble ourselves.

For millions of us, our vocation is humbling in itself.

We change diapers and mow lawns. We plunge toilets and work jobs that bring us little applause.

Before we let the success of others drown our endeavors in self-despair, we should admit the obvious.

Self-pity is as sinful as pride.

Pride says, "I am better than others, therefore, I am special."

Self-pity says, "I am worse than others, therefore, I am special."

The truth is, Lecrae ain't special and neither are you.

But, Lecrae has a special calling and so do you.

A calling, by its very definition, cannot be self-serving nor self-pitying because it is accomplished for the glory of another.

Changing a diaper keeps the most needy humans clean. Mowing a lawn paves the way for friends, family, and neighbors to enjoy themselves at your home without fear of being bitten by a creature slithering through your unkempt grass.

Whether you are a plumber, school-teacher, CEO, or airplane mechanic, you are called.

Like Lecrae, you ain't nuthin' special in yourself.

But, the reason you were placed on this planet is glorious.

Listen to the voice who is calling and you will fulfill it.

And that, my friends, is special.