Father, thank you for today. Thank you for this beautiful fall weather. The crunchy leaves, brisk breeze, and clear skies. Thank you for quiet Sunday mornings and for your Scriptures. Thank you that they aren't just man's opinions or enlightenment, but God breathed. I pray this morning that I would be able to slow down and see you clearly. In your Word you promise rest to the weary and strength to the weak, but I know you can provide focus for the distracted.
I know that my faith and dependance on you fluctuates like the sea level. One moment the waves are lapping up on the beach, stretching and striving closer to the shore. Then, not a few hours later, the ocean looks as though someone unplugged a big drain, miles and miles out and the water can't fight its powerful tow. Funny thing is, you designed it that way, you designed animals perfectly suited for these ever changing waves. You designed ecosystems and delicate and intricate time-tables. Never once does a drop of water go further then you intended. Never once does a current pattern change or a storm surge without you willing it. Although it seems wild and unbridled to me, you are completely in control.
Father open my eyes to see how you're sustaining and guiding every detail of today, every choice that I'm faced with or every success or failure I encounter. It's not outside of your control or a surprise to you. Hallelujah to a God who is all-knowing, all-powerful and always loving. Amen.
[In his hands are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Oh come and worship and bow down, let us kneel before the LORD our maker, for he is our God and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.] Psalms 95