All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him…and I shall live for him. Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord, and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn,
saying that he has done it. Psalm 22
As I ran this morning, I thought about this period of waiting between the despair of Jesus’ death and the joy and triumph of his rising. And it struck me that this scripture is talking about me and you- as we are some of the people who were “yet unborn” when this Psalm was written. It’s overwhelming to think that God thought of us too, that God knew our names so many generations before we came into our being. That God sacrificed his son for us while we were yet unborn, knowing that we would need him just as much as the men on the crosses next to him. And I’m thankful, beyond words, for that.
We can practice that kind of love with each other, but I don’t think we ever come close. I get glimpses of it, from time-to-time and I cherish those. The wet white snow that fell overnight, nourishing the emerging wheat, the little calf running circles around her mamma and then joining her to play in the hay while she eats, the latest student at school who won the weekly burrito because someone else noted this student’s random act of kindness, Snapchats from friends and family all over the world, an email telling me how much my new book was enjoyed, and looking forward to Easter dinner with special people in my life. It’s all these small, precious moments that add up to worship. And I know that God smiles in his heaven.