In your book were written, every one of them the days that were formed for me …
when as yet there were none of them. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I were to count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you. Psalm 139:16–18
Heavenly Father, as “vast” as the sum of my years seems on certain days, my thoughts of you are becoming exponentially greater. At the end, my life will have been mere decades. But measuring your glory and grace, mercy and love, sovereignty and joy would be like counting the grains of sand on every beach that has ever existed.
Father, keep rescuing me, and my friends, from thinking wrongly about you. You are so much more awesome than we realize—so much worthier of our love and trust. Keep showing us how little we really see and understand about the greatness of your love for us in Jesus. May the gospel keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger to us.
It’s a source of incredible peace, and centering freedom, to know you’ve ordained all of our days for us. That’s not unfair fatalism, but Fatherly affection. We won’t live one day more, or one day less, than you decree. This doesn’t lead us to “throw caution to the wind,” but to live and love more intentionally.
Thankfully, your name is Redeemer, not Re-Doer—the God who restores the years eaten away by locusts, the Father who gives mercy for our messes, and hope for our future. As we reflect on the past, we choose to rest in your love, rather than stew in our regrets.
Accordingly, may each remaining day, month, or year you appoint for us be filled with greater love and trust of you, and joy in serving others. By your Spirit, continue to reveal to us how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ—the only love that surpasses knowledge, heals, and satisfies us (Eph. 3:18–19). Everything else will take care of itself. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ matchless and merciful name.