I’m not very good at measuring.
I don’t sew, I don’t participate in major home renovations or construction. I can get by with baking but even that can go downhill quickly. I’m just not good with precision, I’m more of a guesser. Numbers are just so annoying, they confuse me with the way they all have to add up and make sense. That’s why I’ve knitted sweaters with super long arms, scarves that start wide and end skinny, and made letter pillows that looked Greek. I basically measure using my feeling and emotions, which doesn’t always work when you’re making yourself a skirt.
I’m ok with this, I get a little bit jealous of people who make their own curtains but I know my limitations.
I actually love the things that can’t be measured. Think of a beach, covered with miles of sand. There is no scientist with any fancy mathematical tool that could ever count every grain. I find great satisfaction in that.
I love the immeasurable in my life.
Love that runs deep
Grace that pours down
Strength that overcomes
Joy for the asking
Knowledge that guides
Hope for the future
Peace like an endless river
Gifts from my Creator, that he gives me with no limit. After he gives me these gifts, and as they grow in my life he tells me that I can ask for more.
I do want more. It’s not because I’m greedy, it’s not because I’m selfish or all about myself. It’s because more has been promised to me, and why wouldn’t I go after a promise from my Maker? If don’t pursue more, then I’m going for less. Who wants to live a life of pursuing less?
I’m going to ask.
I’m going to imagine.
There is more for us. In our faith, in our relationships. In our work, in our growth, in our families. In all the things that matter to us. As we receive more, we have more we can give to others.
Look around at the things you can’t measure. Think about the prayers you are saying, the life you are leading.
Throw away the tape measure. Break your ruler.
Go and sit in the sand.
Make castles, bury yourself, draw pictures and dream dreams.
You have permission to ask for more.