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Sweetly broken

Monday, November 29, 2010

Matthew 8:8-9
The centurion said to Jesus in reply, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man under authority, with soldiers subject to me ..."

It is sweet to know my place under the heavens and on the earth. What do astronauts bring home? Remembering the sight of earth so far away, shining jewel, precious and small. If they can travel beyond the moon, if we can see the earth from Pluto, say, how tiny it will be in the sky.

How tiny am I?

Just what am I in charge of anyway? Surely not soldiers. I don't even have any kids to order around anymore. Not the equipment of my life - car and dishwasher and furnace and stuff. The leaves fall unbidden from their trees, even after I've raked and raked.

I learn how to manage my breathing, make it deeper and more relaxing. But often my nose is stuffy and adrenalin rushes around inside me trying to get out. There is authority in those hormones, and often I can only watch while they do me in.

Finally for me and for the centurion and for his servant, it comes down to being in charge of death. The sun rises and the sun goes down, but one day it will go up and down without me. God's in charge, and I'm not. I think as I get that, deep and down inside me, then I love and live and give more and more and more. Appreciate. Carpe diem. Seize the day.

Just don't hold on too tight.

Put your angels around me, Lord, and when I don't see them or even seem to care, please forgive me. I'm not in charge; You Are.



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