Dear Father in Heaven,
In my mind, I see my life as a book that is still being written. Sometimes I turn the pages back and glance at the old days. I hardly recognize myself...page 44 is vastly different from page 21. How alone and unsatisfied I felt then. I was so worldly and selfish that it embarrasses me to think about it now. I tried to make my life what I wanted it to be. I tried to create myself. I don't see many pretty pictures there, so I flip. When I reach page 17 I see weakness, misery and emptiness. Then I turn back still further to page 10, when my life changed at the death of my earthly father. I remember the sadness of that loss.I realize that fear is on nearly every page, beginning at 4...woven into every story until page 33.
But I look closer at the pages and I really focus. I begin to see another layer of ink between the lines-slowly appearing in the empty spaces. It's Your handwriting, not mine. As I turn again from pages 1 through 44, I see that although I pushed your pencil many times, You still wrote what You wanted for me. The word Victory is clearly defined. You knit me, You named me. You never forsook me, You didn't glance away and let me fall off a cliff. You were actively working to bring me to You. You sifted me, You molded me. You loved me, You love me. I thank You for what You have already written for me that I haven't seen yet...it makes my heart quiver to think about the wonders ahead!!!
1 comment:
LOVE, LOVE. LOVE this!!!!
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