So teach us to number our days that we may present to You a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12
It’s new year’s eve. Inventory time.. How does God love me? Let me count the ways.
But first some guiding principles and elements in inventory taking: Who are the characters? Giver: infinite God; Recipient: finite me. What are being counted? Blessings: concrete and abstract.
How to count? While I can count the concrete, I can only ‘number’ the abstract. Counting is finding the numbers of all things together. Numbering is putting significance to each of the items counted.
The element of time:
Blessings in time – within time; from one point in time, through time – from the start of one’s being up to the present. In a financial statement, the inventory report is dated a certain date e.g. ending December 31, 2018.
More than just numbers on the calendar (chronos time), another kind of time gives deeper significance to the gifts of the heavenly Father. Chronos time is about particular dates and numbers of seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years. Kairos refers to significant events caught in time. Kairos time differentiates May 21, 1962 from May 21, 2018. The former is meaningful because then I became the first-born of my parents. The latter is significant because then I have journeyed down the kairos road of “being” a wife and a mother.
Today, I exist for certain number of years, months and days. I thank God that on my first day, my mom survived a life-threatening delivery. I want to remember with my finite limited memory bank all the time in between that day and today: my first time to be punished by my kinder teacher, the first test when I got a failing grade, when I cried over my writing assignment. I cannot remember what exact day, month and year each event happened. Such dates are not important. But I remember the day I agreed to be Andrew’s girlfriend, the day I married him, the day I miscarried Gabriel. I remember clearly how Hannah, Abigail and Mimi came to be. I treasure the day after my mom had her kidney transplant, the day after I had my lumpectomy and even the day I found out I had cancer. I reminisce the visits I made each weekend when mom and dad were still around – of the conversations we had, the words uttered, and heard. I store up in my treasure chest the smile on my mom’s face when she was weak and sick as she looked at the pictures of my children on my phone. I cannot forget my dad’s toothless smile while he was hooked to the dialysis machine. And what of the great comfort of Andrew’s hugs and “I’m sorry” each time we reconciled…
Many things and people in life are worthy of remembering and holding dear. But oftentimes, it is the immeasurable and the uncountable that is most precious. How do I measure the amount of air in each breath that I take? Can I quantify the joy, peace, comfort of moments spent with family and friends? Every time I look up the clear evening sky, can I count the stars reminding me of the Creator? How does one put a number to the grace and mercy of God?
I also learned that ‘less’ is often more. I recall Andrew and I lying on the bed (a little bigger than the one Hannah and Abigail each sleeping in right now) in our cozy little bedroom, Andrew said a king size bed is not as good as a small one. In the cold of winter, how do I measure the warmth, comfort and peace in our hearts as we hug each other close?
The memories of the past year: While counting the wakes I went to is not a pleasant task to do, treasuring the moments of hugs, warm clasps of hands, comforting embrace on the shoulders between the grieving and the comforter, remembering the sympathetic smiles and words of comfort or even the silent moments when just the presence of a listening ear and an understanding companionship… are these not blessings to ‘number?’
Yes, I can count my clothes, shoes and bags, the dishes on the table, the cash in the bank, the cars in the garage… but at any one time, I cannot wear all of the clothes in the closet nor can I eat all the food in the ref, or do I need to spend all the cash in the bank or ride in all the cars to go to the place I need to be or want to go. I only need enough cloth to keep me warm and covered. I only need some food to be full. I only need a space enough to lay my head and body to sleep. Even when I do not have a car, I have two feet to walk.
I realise that more than counting, I need to put a ‘number’ to each of the blessing that the infinite Creator bestows on His finite creatures like me. The past year, how many times did God forgive me of my temper, impatience, complaints, my pride, my laziness, my indulgence, my vanity, my selfishness? How many times did He bestow His good gifts of undeserved blessings on me and my family? How do I measure God’s mercy? How do I treasure God’s grace? How do I number the love of family, the companionship of friends, the encouragement of teachers and mentors? I ponder (think carefully), I remember, and I share with others of God’s wondrous blessings, of His great love, grace and mercy.
Counting and numbering: not just on new year’s day but in each moment of each day in the days to come for as long as I live – with each breath that I take, let me ponder and wonder, let me remember and number, let me measure and treasure.
Life walk with Marlene 