Lord, You are my portion and my cup of blessing;
You hold my future.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Psalm 16:5-6

As summer slides away, achingly slow in the Texas hill country, fall steps into her place, and because we won’t feel that first true cold snap for a few more weeks, we first feel fall subconsciously, in the changing rhythms of our day.

We wake in the darkness to get the kids ready for school, a pattern of life we are still readjusting to, and for some, this is a welcome routine after months of sleeping till whenever and having no set plan for the day.

Perhaps we reach for a warm mug of coffee rather than our typical iced concoctions, something to hold near our chest as we open up our Bible or read a quick devotion on our phone. The call for something else warm and sweet to nibble on might be harder to resist; a bit of Nutella on toast or a homemade loaf of some kind are comforting treats you don’t have to share with your kids who are hopefully still in bed at this point. We have the rest of the day to eat healthy.

We sit down to breakfast with Jesus — just you and him. He is the one who gave you this hour of quiet and these simple pleasures. Thank him, and talk to him about your day like you would a friend. He is the best friend we could hope to have, anyway, and more than a cup of coffee or a sweet treat or a moment alone — he is our portion.

Part of me rears up at the part of Israel’s story when God tells Aaron and his sons, of the Tribe of Levi, “You will not have an inheritance in their land, there will be no portion among them for you.” As Israel stood on the cusp of the Promised Land, more wealth and property than they could have ever imagined, God took the opportunity to set aside the Levites and remind them that their inheritance was not a material one.

I think the reason I feel a tiny bit of rebellion at this is because I come up against this same decree in my own life: You are different. You aren’t meant to live the same kind of life that others do. You will struggle with things they have never had to think about. You will not receive their portion.

But my portion is so much better.

And your portion, if it be Christ, is too.

The psalmist writes that the boundary is pleasant to him. Let that sink in: the boundary is pleasing. What are the boundaries God has placed on your life? Right now, in this moment of quiet, name three of them. Do they feel taboo to speak? What if we could see them as God’s pleasing gifts to us?

God goes on to tell Aaron, “I am your portion and your inheritance.” The psalmist echoes the story: “I have a beautiful inheritance.” In Robert Alter’s translation of Psalm 16, it is put, “An inheritance fell to me with delight.” I love the passivity that communicates, like the falling of leaves signaling the world’s powerlessness to stop the seasons changing, to slow the surge of time. We did nothing to be handpicked for the special purpose of knowing God. During this time of changing rhythms, we can look at the limitations on our time, resources, and abilities as God’s kindness to set our gaze back on him.

One of my pleasant boundary lines is that I have a small amount of time in the mornings before my kids wake up and need me. It makes the moment alone with Jesus sweet and sacred, an inheritance which falls to me with delight.