April 12, 2013 § Leave a comment
There is so much that cries out to be prayed for, to be done, to be fixed. Murdered infants, tribal warfare, hungry and thirsty children, slavery, child soldiers, homeless families, mental illness, diseased townships, twisted politicking, despair and all manner of suffering. Death. Final, unnatural, irreversible death. And everywhere, lost souls. I feel helpless when I open my eyes to the world’s swirling wretchedness. I want to fix it all. I want to save the world. But then I remember.
I enjoy my comforts and thank God for placing me where He has. But I am not entitled to one bit of it. Anything and everything could be taken away in a moment. A robbery. A car crash. A rape. An aneurysm.
I am owned by my Creator. I am clay in His hands. He is good, and He is the King.
So my life is not my own.