My room never got dark last night. The full moon peered through my window casting pockets of light all over my walls.
I crawled in bed close to midnight, tired and smiling from a full day with family. My head hit the pillow and I paused in the loud silence.
Sometimes, when I don't know what else to say, I start reciting Psalm 63.
Oh God, you are my God
earnestly I seek you.
My soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.
I have seen you in the sanctuary
and beheld your power and your glory
because your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify you...
I can't tell you how many times these words have been my words. These words have been my prayer. They just seem to have stuck, right on the tip of my tongue, ever since I memorized them in eleventh grade.
But last night I couldn't get past that last phrase.
Because your love is better than life
"Really?" I thought.
I mean, I've said those words after some pretty hard days, and in those moments I have no problem.
"Ah, because your love is better than life... yes, your love must be better than the day I just walked though."
But yesterday my thoughts were more like:
"Because your love is better than life... wait. I don't know about that today. Better than today? Better than the laughter I shared with my family? Better than my nephew's hug, or my niece's smile? Better than bike rides, Kansas fields, warm afternoons, the smell of freshly cut grass, and my mom's potato salad?"
Better.
Sometimes I don't get it. I just can't fathom my Father's love. And even though I know that my life is covered in expressions of that love, I need to be reminded over and over that beneath all the gifts, His love is better. He is better.
Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the LORD?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God. Prov 30:8-9