“And even the hairs of your head are all counted.”
Matthew 10: 30
Rats, I miscounted or did I already count that one?
Lord you amaze me.
You tell me you know the exact the number of hairs on my head at any given moment.
You carefully watch over all of your loved ones. And we are all your loved ones.
You watch each sparrow throughout the world.
Each grain of sand.
Every star in the universe.
You have ordered it all within your grasp.
Why do I let fear overwhelm me when you see to such minute details?
Why does the color of my roots peeking through preoccupy me when you cherish the individual shaft of hair?
Why do I think you have left me, can’t hear me, or have forgotten me – when you are so close to know that exact number?
You, amazing God, who could scoop all of the oceans up in the palm of your hand, sees to such details such as numbering my hair.
You paint the black and white strips on the dragonfly in my backyard.
You sprinkle golden fireflies, flickering among my flowers.
You know how many times I have sneezed in my lifetime and how many heartbeats are left within me.
You know when I rise and when I sleep.
What does that tell me about the immensity of your love when I pause to ponder your tally of each individual hair?
You know me better than I know myself. And you still accept me as you create me.
Love me in my inadequacies and failures.
Pick me up when I fall.
Cheer me on even when I think I am succeeding in my own strength.
Pour out your goodness when I lose hope.
Cry with me when endless tears stream down my check.
And hold me, counting, caressing each strand, when I rest in your arms.
Never recounting my sins, only counting each hair in this present moment.
Counting God – knowing this I can count on you.