I peer out my window to a vast array of lights and traffic, realizing that my view pales in comparison with God's. This is only one major city, sitting in one state, of one large nation, on one planet moving perfectly through an inconceivable galaxy. And I can't help but wonder (and often doubt) what I have to do with this view -- why in the great expanse would God even bother to sustain his grace over my life.
I see a fly in my kitchen disrupting the natural order of my day, and it is hard for me to grasp that God would see my sin any different in light of His perfect will. That he would not also swat me according to my due punishment is bewildering. The only possibility is that I hold some worth or value under the surface -- that he would see me as family and as an asset. It's very difficult for me to see this "worth" when I know the order that I disrupt.
I'm not trying to be hard on myself; I think if I could legitimately understand the love of a Father, I may just trust myself as a son. But by earning His acclaim through my effort, which is due to fail in the most vital moments, I only know what it means to be the hired hand...as if my reward will only be justified by my labor.
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