27 is one of those unimportant birthdays.
It does not mark any great milestone.
I can already drive, and I am already married.
I have a long way to go before social security benefits and AARP.
I have never felt that age is the measure of a man.
When I was a child I determined to measure my success differently.
I determined that success to me would be found in family.
If I was married and loved my wife that would be a success.
If I had kids and loved them that would be a success.
If I loved God and was faithful to him that would be a success.
And that sounds great–and very spiritual.
It sounds sufficiently contrary to the world.
But if that is my measure then I have failed immeasurably.
I am married, and I have kids, and I love God–
But how can I compare my love to God’s baseline.
Would I sacrifice my life? I think so.
But will I give up my hobbies?
Will I give up my sleep on Saturday morning?
My hopes and dreams? I don’t even know how.
If I go by my own measure and fail, how much more by God’s measure.
So I have determined to have a different standard.
I have determined to measure myself by the mercy God has given me.
Each time God shows me mercy I will count my life successful.
I will count His mercy freely given as a reflection of how great His love is.
And I will count being loved by Him as a success.