Thoughts TO the Basket

[Estimated reading time: 2m33s]

I rewrote Psalm 139 as a letter from God. I hope you’ll insert your name where I’ve placed mine:

O Arvin, I have examined your heart and know everything about you.

I know when you sit down or stand up. I know your every thought, even when you’re far away from me.

I chart the path ahead of you and tell you where to stop and rest. Every moment I know where you are.

I know what you’re going to say before you say it, Arvin.

I open for you and close after you. The hand where I keep all my blessing is on your head. This knowledge is more wonderful than you can handle. My greatness is enough that you’ll be discovering new heights forever.

You can never get away from my spirit or my presence. When you feel like you’re in heaven, I’m there. And when you feel like you’re tasting hell, I’m still with you.

When you’re riding high on life or find yourself forgetting what it was like to ever not be in a storm, the hand where I keep all my blessings is still on your head, guiding you. Your support will be dependent on how strong I am.

I mean, you could try to cover yourself in darkness. You could try to turn bright days into dark nights of the soul, but even then, Arvin, you can’t hide from how much I love you.

To me, your blanket of evil might as well be see-through! I’m present in and aware of your worst moments as well as your best.

I invented all the pieces that make up “Arvin.” I threaded you together in the privacy of your mother’s womb. I made you awe-inducingly complex on purpose (ehem…you’re welcome).

I’m so proud of the way I made you—and how aware you’ve become of it all!

I’m watching as you become yourself in your most private moments, Arvin. You were not put together like cheap furniture, every thread of your existence was sourced from my heart.

I read an old copy of my final draft of you before you even learned how to read.

I’ve already written down your destiny in un-erasable ink.

When it comes to your life, I didn’t make a map based on the land that already existed. It was the other way around. I laid out what I wanted to do, and then started creating.

My thoughts about you are precious, O Arvin! I’ve lost count of how many things I love about you. You couldn’t count them if you tried. It took me longer to list all the things I love about you than it did to make all the sand in the earth from beginning to end.

And Arvin, I’m not a one-night-stand kind of God. I won’t show up with all these amazing blessings and sayings and then bounce before you wake up. I’m the lover that makes you breakfast. When you wake up, I’m still with you.

O Arvin, I hear your intense urge for wickedness to get out of your life and never come between us. I hear your declarations against everything that seeks to kill our intimacy. I feel your passion when you decry anything that doesn’t honor me. I know you’re possessive of me and my vision.

Yes, I know you’ve aligned yourself with me and my heart. I’ve already examined everything about your heart, but I’ll keep roaming around in it, tending my garden. If anything tries to stop me, I’ll point it out to you so I can keep filling you with Life, the kind whose new heights you’ll never stop discovering.

Thoughts from the Basket
the one i hope you skip