That Heartbeat Thing

Our hearts pump miracle life laps every single second
Without us pausing once to wonder how it even happens
That happening of being...you know...alive
That glinting, just once in forever time span we're given called life
That thing we break up into days and awkward grades and stages
That ongoing everyday book of ours where we rip out whole pages
That tend to cameo in later chapters as our excuses or sages

Yes, life -
That heartbeat thing we're just trying to get through today
So by this time tomorrow we'll be 24 hours further away
From yesterday's sorrow
Or 24 hours closer to
who we're trying too hard to be
Or to how we ought to live or
to that damn epiphany -
When's it gonna happen?

Our heart beating arteries bleeding cell seeping
cardio-pulmonary system is so bleeping amazing, literally
Inexplicably amazing
But we don't think about how many things in our life are
so amazing that we can't even begin to explain them
So we answer all the easy questions then complain how much we hate them
I mean, really, I don't know about you but I'm complaining all the time
Like drinking a glass of clean clear water is not a gift but just my right
Like everything else I have or own or
every person whose personhood has intersected with mine
Well it's all just luck or coincidence and not at all divine, right?
Do I really have too much pride to admit how little control I have over my life?
How much more control do you have over the sea as I have to stop my heart from
Living in spite of me?
I mean, isn't that how I'm living my life?
Feet dragging head sagging task list nagging one day I'll catch my breath
But something inside is pounding loudly at the door of my regret
Because it knows every second catches me and begs me to live in it
Not with guilt or shame or pride
But with love spilling out from the torn flesh of
His side.

What can we expect to know about our destiny,
What can we realistically expect to control
When the biophysical operation of our basic flesh and bones
Is a completely mezmerizing God run circus
Of blood and veins and muscles and nerves?

Why is it that God allows us to completely unrecognize Him
For the every moment miracle of our involuntary wiring?
Why does He allow us to, at any given second
slouch with an unwillingness to find anything beautiful or blessed
Or anything miraculous or good beneath our skin
where the Holy Spirit pumps blood of Christ to refill us from within?

Maybe it's just that He gave us our cardiovascular design
as a masterful correlate to our sin
Then gives us an average of 78 humble reminders per minute
To remember that we can't even provide the simplest answer
To how we just breathed our last breath in.