My niece, Samantha, is eighteen this year. She's about to enter uni this year. My uncle, a Ronald Reagan lookalike, is her grandfather. And whenever she visits her grandpa, she asks him to mark her height on the wall of his home, as he has done for so many years ever since she was a little, little girl. He chortles and gladly obliges, looking even more brilliantly Reaganesque as he smiles, even though (or rather, because) both of them know that it will be the same, year after year.
And my niece's and nephew's growth charts are no longer pencilled markings on a wall, but a timeless mural by a grandfather and his grandchildren for generations to see.
And I realise that our Father himself loves to record and inscribe every little growth and every sweet victory that we have in our personal walk with Him.
Psalm 139:16bLike how my sheep is increasingly making it a conscious habit to read the Bible whenever he's waiting. That's God's pencil mark dated 12 April 2009. One small step for him, one giant leap for the kingdom of God.
"All the days ordained for me
were written in your book before
one of them came to be."
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