Measurements

Father, I belong to you.

A simple statement I find incredibly powerful.

I've prayed it every day this week and a peace falls into my unbalanced heart whenever I do. It makes me rest. In the end you belong and you belong to God. I weep or fail or fall all the while I'm being held by God. I get this picture in the eye of my mind of a fireman saving a child's life in the face of smoke and affliction. A face smeared by ash, lungs choking and then a body silent with head spilled backward while being held in the arms of their rescuer. Breathe child just take a breath. Eyes flashing to life while sirens wail in the street. Jesus this is a medical emergency. We need a rescue. Our father who art in heaven, give me this day.

The fact is every day our bodies are breaking down and dying. No matter how hard we try and fight growing old. But I don't mind growing old. I want to grow old gracefully. I want to grow in measurements I can't measure. I want to take another risk and love when its least expected. And even though I know the building is burning down to the ground it will be new again some day.