Monday, November 5, 2012

a book of days


For You created my inmost being; 
You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; 
Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, 
Your eyes saw my unformed body. 
All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.

I love these verses in Psalm 139. The love of God for each of us shines so clearly in the words of the text, and with just a few short verses meaning for each person's life is found in them. 

I kept thinking about the days written in the book. I can just picture a book filled with life and all the things that make up that life, birthdays, graduation, a wedding, and even the thousands of ordinary days that create a lifetime. Maybe for some a cure for cancer, or the next president of the United States, or someone's future spouse, or a little league coach are written on those pages. The picture it paints is just beautiful. Not because every day is flawless, but because every day is like a brushstroke in a painting. By itself it might not seem to matter, but put them all together and you can find yourself with a masterpiece. 

Picture this book once again with all the days ordained beforehand by the Creator. Now start to erase it, every little mark back to the time of the womb. Let it stop there. Put this image in your mind, because it's important.

This is what happens when a baby's life is taken from them, when a mom or a dad decide this baby just wasn't in their plans, there isn't enough money to take care of them, they might be a burden, they might be "defective", they just don't want them. They choose to pay someone to stop a heartbeat, and then their troubles are over.

But the world loses out on something great. They lose out on an individual as unique as a snowflake. Nobody else can replace what they would have done with their life had they had the chance, and while its true most would not become the president of the United States or discover a cure for cancer and some would commit crimes or simply not live up to their God given potential, do they not deserve the chance each of us has been given? A chance to do something great with their life, or is their life just a woman's right to choose and their only hope is that their mother will just to let them live and not die? 

It has to be more than that. It is more than that. "I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."