We Are His

Looking for something easy and quiet to do with the little cousins, I pull out a childhood favourite.

You Are Mine by Mac Lucado
Illustrations by Sergio Martinez

It stays with me long after the kids leave.

Punchinello, this little wooden creation called a Wemmick, chasing after toys, these boxes and balls. He needs more, more, more. 

Because the more you have the good-er you are, isn't that it?

And then someone stacks all their boxes and balls - all this pride - and stands a top it all, declaring the highest is the good-est.

Because the higher you are the good-er you are, isn't that it?

And I know that's not true but how often do I live that?

Sure, it might not be toys anymore, but how often do I chase more?

More awards, more playing time, more grades, more extra-curriculars, more credentials...

And how often do I stack all these things up and stand a top them, looking down and thinking, I'm good.

And how often do I want worldly success when I should really be chasing Kingdom success?

The words smile up at me, a reminder needed at 15 years old as much as at 5...

"You're special - not because of what you have. You're special because of who you are. You are mine. I love you. Don't forget that, little friend."

I'm His. 

How could I live for me? 

This life isn't mine. 

This life isn't for me to chase success, power or possessions for me. This life is for me to stop running, chasing, wanting and to start loving, thanking, giving. 

I'm His, and I wouldn't want to be anybody or anything else's... How humbled should we be that the King calls us his own, and uses us to build his Kingdom?

Why would I run from that, chasing all the pretty {but empty} things this world distracts me with?

You're special. You're special because you're a child of the King. Don't forget that.