The day is at its peak, but I'm lagging in the valley. It's an effort to look up, to engage my mind in blessing counting of any kind, and yet I know this arithmetic will figure the day either for better or worse.
Sun glinting on steadfast river
(Glitter and paper bits ground into the floor)
A stack of library books eagerly devoured
(A stack of housework waiting to devour me)
Cheerful chatter of imaginary play
(Marbles, marbles rolling everywhere)
But these are not to be given equal weight. The equation doesn't work that way. I am missing something in the formula. There is a Sum greater than these parts.
The Source of all beauty
The Counselor of infinite wisdom
The Father who delights in His children
The gentle God of lowly heart who says,
Rest is received in yoking with me. Let us join our labours and ascend the hill together. Do not grow weary in doing good, for all of this counts. Keep in step, and I will order your day. I will make the fragments add up in the end. Come to me. Come with me.
Oh, I am too tired for mathematics, but here is an outcome I can rely on. Beyond counting blessings to counting on Him.