Timeless and Tireless Lord Jesus,
Another week has gone or come depending on how I look at it.
But either way, when I’m honest with myself I can hardly remember a single
minute as distinct from another… let alone distinct seconds… like those ones
where in your eternal wisdom you stopped me with a traffic signal; or the ones
where my clamorous alarm disturbed my sleep and felt entitled to more rest.
Seconds, mere seconds, in the scope of eternity and they seemed mountainous at
the time. True, you have made me a dynamic, time-bound, and finite creature who
must deal with events as they happen—so it’s fine that I do, but how often did
those moments turn to sin? How many seconds did I waste away apart from your
glorious joy and peace? In those regretful moments I doubted your goodness and
your wisdom, and so now… days later I ask forgiveness. You are my Protector and
my Guide but I assailed you. Forgive me. I know now that every single moment is intended to bring about eternal
goodness for me and everyone else who loves you, but time after time I forget
it—or call it lie. Forgive me and every other one of your children who has done
so this week. Restore us to an awareness of your being. Eternal, infinite,
powerful, good, Savior, Creator, Provider, Redeemer, Father, Love, Deliver,
King, conquering Priest, Holy One—you are. Remind me.
It is easy to make the big jump: it’s easy to promise that
when it comes down to it I would sacrifice my life, a martyr for your name. But
it’s much, much more difficult to live in the menial and tedious moments in
such a way that I truly consider you worthy of sacrifice. Self-sacrifice in
monotony is immensely more difficult than self-sacrifice in a flash of glory…
at least it certainly seems that way. In the same way, it’s easy for me to know
and remember that all things weave together for the sanctifying good of your
people, but it’s much more difficult to remember that in ‘chance’ events in
miniscule degree, the same is true. So please sanctify me to such a degree that
I doubt not your providential hand in minutiae, but instead can show unto
others the presence of peace you offer because of your wondrous acts. Make me
like you as much and moreso as Phileas Fogg—never regretting a moment of
mischance but engaging it for all you have prepared it to be worth. When
trapped by an overhanging red signal, compel me to breathe deeply and enjoy the
world around me. When coerced by pseudo-melodies to leave dreamland, impress my
mind with a semblance of waking from death to life through your renewing
Spirit.
Do not let me forsake the small things. It is only because
of Christ’s own incarnate righteousness that I know this is even possible, but
now I ask that you unite me unto him in greater measure. May my life reflect
such reality.
