I Am Small

W. Phillip Keller writes in A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, “It makes me see myself as a mere mite of material in an enormous universe.”

Scanning the horizon. The vastness of the mountain ranges. The forest containing trees too numerous to zero in on an individual tree. The lingering fog floating above the land. The expanse of sky connecting heaven and earth.

I stand atop Hurricane Ridge with a body hurting from immune suppressant medications. I rest above a world filled with fear of a virus and all it’s implications. I linger amongst a few strangers all facing their own enemies.

And I stop. Survey my surroundings.

I am small.

These mountains are huge. This sky is endless. These trees are infinite in number.

I am small.

My creator who stretches out the heavens, sits above the universe, is maker of all the earth, giving life and breath to all, and laid the foundation of the world.

I breathe in. And out.

This air. Enough for all. Filling every space.

I am small.

My creator who’s ways are higher than mine, never grows weary, is abundant in strength, numbers my hairs, and is mighty and awesome in power.

I close my eyes. Open again.

I am small.

My creator is not.

Dear one, He sees you today. He loves you. And, He holds you. Because you are small, but He is not.