A geologist friend led us on a field trip last weekend. “There’s an outcropping of rock found only in Llano county. Let’s get some.”

Geologists collect rock like pastors collect Bibles. I know these things.

Just 20 miles away and on public land. No signs forbidding pocketing pebbles or pieces. My geo buddy glowed like a meteorite moving through the atmosphere.

We returned home with a few chunks of Llanite. A brown granite with flecks of blue quartz. Divinely planted only in this section of Texas. 

Unique.

Unique’s cultural use belongs in Princess Bride as the subject of “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

It doesn’t mean ‘different.’ Or ‘special.’ Or even ‘heads above.’ Unique means one-of-a-kind. Literally. As in “nothing else like it.”

When God made Llanite, He threw away the mold.

One-of-a-kind labels increase the value. In art. Watches. Clothing. Homes. All sorts of stuff.

They also do that in you. In your spouse. Kids. Friends. Co-workers. 

That mechanic who repaired your car’s window switch. 

The cashier who rang up your Coke Zero and fried pie. 

The superintendent who lays awake trying to navigate the latest COVID recommendations for everyone’s well-being.

All one-of-a-kinds. Made so by the Creator. Worth so much the Creator’s Son bought them all at auction. 

Every last one. Including you. 

How’s it feel to be unique?