Difference vs. Sum

I hate that this consumes me.
I hate that it's dictating and taking over my life.
I hate that it makes a difference...
But it makes a difference.

When I choose my clothes...
It makes a difference.
When I choose my meals...
It makes a difference.
When I look in the mirror...
It makes a difference.
When I step on the scale...
It makes a difference.

Maybe you don't see it, but I do.
You're lying if you think "there could never be a more beautiful you!"
Because there was, but you don't see her anymore.
She's hidden...buried, you could say.

Buried beneath guilt
Buried beneath jealousy
Buried beneath anger
Buried beneath self-loathing

Buried under multiple layers, and I don't know if we'll ever see her again.

What I don't understand is this:

"13 For it was You who created my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother's womb. 

14 I will praise You, because I have been remarkably and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, and I know this very well. 

- Psalm 139:13-14

I believe You made me, and I don't mean any disrespect when I say this, but... I don't see that I am wonderfully made. I see that my body is complex and it does amazing things that only You could imagine for it, but I don't see that the outside is wonderful.

I wish I understood.
I keep thinking: "But You don't see what I see!"
But You're whispering, "No, Child... You don't see what I see."
I wish I could see what You see. Things from my perspective don't look that great.

Sometimes I want to hide in the darkness.
Sometimes I don't want to stand in Your Presence.
Often, I don't feel worthy.

"11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me, and the light around me will become like night" - 

12 even the darkness is not dark to You. The night shines like day; darkness and light are alike to You." 

- Psalm 139:11-12

Your light still shines on me. And in the end, I'd rather be covered in Your light than covered in darkness.

"I can never escape Your Spirit! I can never get away from Your presence!"

- Psalm 139:7 (NLT)

I can find comfort in knowing You will never leave me. Not for any reason. I can't escape You, because You won't let me go.
I would rather find lasting comfort in You than find finite comfort elsewhere.

"17 God, how difficult Your thoughts are for me to comprehend; how vast their sum is!

18 If I counted them, they would outnumber the grains of the sand; when I wake up, I am still with You."

- Psalm 139:17-18

No matter what I look like when I wake up tomorrow, You'll still be there.

Even though I don't understand it all, I'm going to try to look at things from Your perspective now. After all, I'd rather end with a sum instead of a difference.






*All Bible verses, unless otherwise noted, come from the Holman Christian Standard Bible (CSB).

Like heaven, only smaller.

I look at the pictures again, and the memories come with them.
Then comes my smile.
I can't help it - when I see their smiles, mine appears from nowhere.

I miss it -
The lush green beauty of it all,
The amazing creation of nature surrounding us and following us everywhere.
The cool rain that came nearly every afternoon, like floods from the heavens...
You know the song "Grace Like Rain"?
The person who wrote that must have been to Costa Rica, because Your grace wouldn't be comparable to a few drops of water from the American sky.

The children.
Oh, Lord, the children.
Their smiles. Their laughter.
Their music.

It has to be what heaven sounds like, only smaller.
I am a musician, and I have performed and studied music for more than six years now.
But the sound that came together in that house was more amazing than anything I've heard before.
I couldn't hear anything wrong with their singing.
Sure, it wasn't at the same musical level as some songs I've sang and heard, but...
It was beautiful.
It was stunning.
It was heavenly.

They simply sang for You.
They sang for us,
abandoning all fears and timidity;
abandoning their hearts to You.

I didn't know the words they sang,
But I spoke the same language -
Your language.

I wonder if that's how You hear us when we sing to You.
You know there are imperfections, but You find our voices beautiful.
You ignore the imperfections of our voices, like You can't hear them.
You just hear the praise.

It must be like heaven.
Voices gathered together in praise -
Joyful, jubilant praise,
Stretching to You in streams as dense as the rain that falls from Your hands.

Yes, it must be like heaven.
Only heaven will be infinite times bigger.

I can almost hear their voices, ringing pure and clear.
I can't wait to hear them along with all the others.