big hands in the little details

“How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God!
Psalm 139:17
Divine omniscience affords no comfort to the ungodly mind, but to the child of God it overflows with consolation. God is always thinking upon us, never turns aside His mind from us, has us always before His eyes; and this is precisely as we would have it, for it would be dreadful to exist for a moment beyond the observation of our heavenly Father. His thoughts are always tender, loving, wise, prudent, far-reaching, and they bring to us countless benefits: hence it is a choice to delight to remember them. The Lord always did think upon His people: hence their election and the covenant of grace by which their salvation is secured. He always will think upon them: hence their final perseverance by which they shall be brought safely to their final rest. In all our wanderings the watchful glance of the Eternal Watcher is evermore fixed upon us, - we never roam beyond the Shepherd's eye. In our sorrows He observes us incessantly, and not a pang escapes Him; in our toils He marks all our weariness, and writes in His book all the struggles of His faithful ones. These thoughts of the Lord encompass us in all our paths, and penetrate the innermost region of our being.
Not a nerve or tissue, valve or vessel, of our bodily organization is uncared for; all the littles of our little world are thought upon by the great God!
Dear reader, is this precious to you? then hold to it. Never be led astray by those philosophic fools who preach up an impersonal God, and talk of self-existent, self-governing matter. The Lord liveth and thinketh upon us, this is a truth far too precious for us to be lightly robbed of it. The notice of a nobleman is valued so highly that he who has it counts his fortune made; but what is it to be thought of by the King of Kings! If the Lord thinketh upon us, ALL IS WELL, and we may rejoice evermore."
- Charles H. Spurgeon

Thank you Lord for putting Psalm 139 in Your Word! I entrust myself into Your big hands and thank You that Your fingers are working out all the details of my life. May I meditate on this, that You, O good God, are so powerful to spin the planets, and yet just as personal to keep a count of the hairs on my head. Thank You for being intimate with Your children. Keep me ever-exploring and ever-enjoying the many facets of Your character. amen, and let it be.

worldwide

It’s often into the evening hours of Saturday that I begin to think about Sunday, because it is already Sunday in other parts of the world. I calculate the time difference in my head, and think about my brothers and sisters in all the continents. I specifically think of my family in Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and England, who meet with their small congregations. And I think of mis amigos in Argentina, as well. And I think of all my brothers and sisters who are meeting underground or in peoples’ homes or in lonely prison cells or under expanse of sky.

And I fall asleep rejoicing that God’s name is being praised in many different languages and in many different places by many different people! What a place heaven will be, when the international choir is united before Him.

the shell

I came across this poem, written by Amy Carmichael. It was written decades ago, but is as timely-as-ever today.

Upon the sandy shore an empty shell,
Beyond the shell infinity of sea;
O Saviour, I am like that empty shell,
Thou art the Sea to me.

A sweeping wave rides up the shore, and lo,
Each dim recess the coiled shell within
Is searched, is filled, is filled to overflow
By water crystalline.

Not to the shell is any glory then:
All glory give we to the glorious sea.
And not to me is any glory when
Thou overflowest me.

Sweep over me, Thy shell, as low I lie;
I yield me to the purpose of Thy will,
Sweep up, O conquering waves, and purify
And with Thy fullness fill.

Amen, and amen!

restless, but resting

Sometimes, like tonight, I feel so utterly restless. Wanting to be in a hundred different places at once. Thinking of 'there', but am here. Trying to sleep, but kept awake by a desperately needy world. On my pillow, thinking of those without one. In my house, thinking of those in huts. Me, with a full belly, them and their growling ones. But what is most haunting is their lost and lonely cries, for many do not know their Heavenly Father.

And sometimes, I am so disturbed, disgusted, and devastated with it all, that I forget the sovereignty of God, which tells me... that God has placed me here, now on purpose, which is His purpose. And other times, I am so burdened for other places and people that I lose sight of this place and people around me. And other times, I am caught dreaming of the future, that I let the present slip right by.

So, I have to recall, over and over again, that His sovereignty gives purpose to the 'here' and to the 'now'. And I reckon I'll be learning this again, and again, and again, till I'm home.