Count the stars God tells Abram and Sarai, or, if you prefer, count the grains of sand.
Lord sometimes I feel like my efforts are no more than grains of sand in an ocean of hurting, lonely and sick people.
And time is dripping through the egg timer, one solitary granular at the time.
Count the sand, how can I count the sand, when I am but one grain?
How can I calculate the stars when I am but one entity of stardust in a vast, vast universe?
God who knows the count of every hair on my head. Creator of all beings who walk or fly or swim or crawl; surely you know I cannot count that high.
How then can I count my efforts? In the moment of crises am I doing enough? Am I staying away enough (6ft and staying at home as much as possible)? Am I being in contact enough (phone calls and video conferences and snail mail)?
Am I opening up enough (how can I help), am I keeping my family safe enough (let’s not do that)?
Am I taking care of myself enough (walks and family and friends and reading)?
The box of food I’ve collected, is that enough to count? The one package of toilet paper I found, does that work? The one small family I was able to bus back home–they were only two people–is that enough?
Count the stars.
Count the sand.
God reassures Abram & Sarai that they are connected to the world, that they are part of a greater universe, that they are part of the whole of human family and because they are of one humanity
their grain of time
their glow of starlight
Remind me of that too I pray.