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All my days were written when as yet there were none of them.
Pen dipped in ink,
He pauses,
Before recording my name
At the top of the page.
Date of birth. Location. Family Ancestry.
It will be millenniums before
He would weave together
Veins and muscles, bones and tissues.
Perhaps written down in some celestial code.
This gene. That chromosome.
This one tied to that one.
Decreeing skin and eye color,
Height and weight,
Coordination, propensities
Abilities, illnesses.
Day 1
Every detail of first breath, first cry, first thirst satisfies.
Day 2
Day 3
Year 5, Day 12
Teachers, friends, strangers I would meet.
What I would learn. Steps I would take.
Year 9, Day 5
Every detail of my second birth.
How He would make Himself known to me,
Open my eyes.
Decade after decade.
Details carefully crafted.
For His glory. For my good.
Trials mixed with blessings.
Tears tallied in the margin.
Thanksgivings highlighted in gold.
Evils done against me noted.
Good works to be done by me ordained and orchestration planned.
Days upon days.
Years after years.
A marriage and births of children.
Described and linked to the records of their days.
Moves and travels
More days with intersection to the lives of others
What attention to details!
What skill of organization!
What authority to bring to pass!
Final entry.
Last day.
Day of knowing as I have been known.
Day of completing the work He began.
And the first page of my life’s book will be turned.