One day we were up above Wenatchee, Washington, on the White River by Tall Timber Camp.

Our kids were climbing over the driftwood along the river's edge and they were picking up stones and throwing them out into the water to see how far they could skip them. They must have thrown hundreds of stones that day, as kids will do.

Every now and then one of them would come running back to us to show us a stone they had found. "Look at this one, Mom." "Look at this, Dad". We would nod our heads and say, "Um-hmm, that's a nice one." And then they would race off to play some more.

Occasionally they would give us the stone they held and say, "I want to keep that one, would you hold it for me?" We would agree and soon we each had a pocketful of stones from the river. They all looked pretty much the same to me. Most were the blue or speckled variety, some were agates, but it didn't matter because in the eyes of the child they were special.

I was content to take picture instead of filling my pockets with rocks. So as I bent over to take the above picture I noticed the white rock in the field of blue colored and speckled rocks. It was different. I centered on it for a picture. Then I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

Now, the picture isn't that great of a picture. I am not the world's best photographer. But later as I thought about the rocks and I thought about God's word it came to me that we are a lot like the millions of rocks on the river bank. There really are millions of them, millions of rocks without end. Just like there are millions of people on earth today and there have been millions before us and there will most likely be millions after us.

What came to mind is this. Out of the millions of rocks on the river bed, and I centered upon this white one and picked it up and put it in my pocket. I chose it. Of all the rocks on the riverbank which I could have had, I chose this one.

Well, the same is true in my life. There are millions of people in the world. But out of all those people, God chose me. I do not know why, I just know He did. For some reason, He had mercy upon me and chose to bestow His grace (unmerited - unearned) favor upon me and granted that I might be His. He picked me up and He has put me into His pocket, and He has called me His possession in Jesus Christ.

Well, I don't know how you see it, but to my way of thinking, that is a pretty amazing thought. It really helps me on those days when I get up with a bum attitude and do not want to face life. God chose me. God owns me. God loves me. I belong to Him. So I figure, that if I belong to the all-powerful Creator of all the Universe and all created things, then no matter what, He's got me. It is a comforting thought.

In the 1950's there was a hit song on the radio sung by Laurie London called

"He's Got The Whole World In His Hands."

So that is the story of this picture. I reminds me that I do not belong to myself. I was once a rock like any other rock on the riverbank but now I am a chosen stone, and as such, I am a prized possession of the King of Kings.