Out and Up

“But you are a shield around me, O Lord; you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.”  Psalm 3:3

The situation was scary and sad.  As a rebel army approached the capital city, David chose to flee instead of fight the enemy—his own son.  The fickle hearts of a nation had turned their allegiance to the suave and sly Absalom, so David ran.  With bare feet and a covered head, he wept as he climbed the Mount of Olives and headed to the desert.  An angry man from Saul’s family darted beside him hurling curses, dirt, and stones.  In his distress, David began to sing—a song of plea, peace, and promise.  “O Lord, how many are my foes!  How many rise up against me!  Many are saying of me, ‘God will not deliver him’”(vs 1-2).

David began with the facts—the raw reality of his situation.  He had been betrayed by his subjects and his son, and though a few still stood by his side, most had turned from him and turned on him.  The general consensus was that this time even God wouldn’t help him out. 

But David knew better.  He knew his God better and he knew himself better.  “But you are a shield around me, O Lord; you bestow glory on me and lift up my head”(vs 3).   The facts couldn’t drown David’s faith.  He wasn’t about to go under but was being lifted up by the One who protected him, who listened to him, who answered him.  “To the Lord I cry aloud, and he answers me from his holy hill”(vs 4).

In the middle of the treachery and terror, David could sleep.  He could rest in assurance that all would be well and that he would wake up.  “I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.  I will not fear the tens of thousands drawn up against me on every side”(vs 5-6).

 “Arise, O Lord!” David cried.  “Deliver me, O my God!” he pleaded(vs 7).  And God did.  Absalom was defeated, and David’s kingdom was restored.  “From the Lord comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people”(vs 8).  

No matter how deep or dark your current situation, know that no plans of man can overthrow God’s purpose or override God’s peace. Don’t let the facts drown your faith, and don’t let them scare you and steal your sleep. 

You’re not going under.  You’re being lifted up.
Rest in Him.

The Blessed Beginning

“Blessed is the man….”  Psalm 1:1

The psalmbook begins with a blessing (the positive) for what we don’t do (the negative).  “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers”(Ps. 1:1).  Since the progression is really a regression, let’s start with the best of the worst.

“Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked.”  Note that the psalm-writer does not say, “Blessed is the man who does not walk with the wicked,” for each day we journey through life with both those who know Jesus and those who need to know Him.  Our circle of influence and affection should include the godly and the ungodly, for where else will they see the footprints of Jesus if not in our steps?  Love them freely and graciously for God loved us when we were far away (Ephesians 2:13).  No, the blessing does not come from lack of association but from lack of agreement.  Though bits of sound advice and surely some wisdom can be found among friends who lack faith, their counsel is never centered on God’s plan and purpose.  What they say may be common sense or even seem to make the most sense, but when we’re making a choice, which carries the most weight?  Their words or God’s Word?  The one who chooses God’s best over any else’s good will be blessed.

Blessing also comes when we don’t “stand in the way of sinners.”  If we’re standing, it means we’ve stopped walking.  We’ve halted forward progress to hang out with those who live in rebellion and without regard for God.  When we’re following God’s way, we don’t need to pause and check out a different path.  We’ve been down that road before, and the final destination isn’t so fine. 

Unless we’re careful not to walk in agreement with people who aren’t seeking God and not to stand around soaking in their habits and behavior, we will soon find ourselves sitting with those who scorn our precious Savior.  “Blessed is the man who does not…sit in the seat of mockers.”  We sit when we’re comfortable in our surroundings—when we feel like we belong and not just dropping by. We can’t be blessed by God if we’re busy bashing God, but before we hastily and haughtily denounce those who speak against Him, let’s be quick to remember that God can be mocked by more than a mouth.  Our actions and attitudes speak louder than our words.

The safeguard against this regression into unrighteousness is stated in the next verse. “But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on His law he meditates day and night.”  We are blessed when we avoid what pulls us away from God and when we avidly pursue what draws us near—His Word.  God’s Word should delight our hearts and dominate our thoughts.  “The words I have spoken to you, they are spirit and they are life,” Jesus declared (John 6:63), and we should know them well.

If we do, we will flourish and be fruitful in all the seasons of life—“He is like a tree planted by rivers of water that bears fruit in season.”  We will not lack anything we need—“His leaves also will not wither,” and we will fulfill God’s purpose in all we do—“and whatever he does will prosper.”

God’s blessings begin but they never end.

Live blessed.

Summer Songs

“I will sing to the Lord all my life.”  Psalm 104:33

Something about summer makes us sing. 

From the rhythm of oldies hit “Sum Sum Summertime” through classic reminiscing in “Summer of ‘69” to recent exultations of “What Time Is It?  It’s Summertime!” the anticipation of relaxed schedules, lazy evenings, and fun vacations tempts even the least melodic among us to hum a happy tune.

“Is anyone happy?” James inquires. “Let him sing songs of praise,” he then advises(James 5:13). The joy in our hearts should flow through our mouths, and we should sing to the One who is worthy and wonderful and who has blessed us with abundance and delight. But music is not to be reserved for days of sunshine alone.  We should sing in the storms and in the rain, pouring out our struggles and sorrows to the One who is worthy and wonderful and who walks with us through the mud of this life and dries our tears in the next. As Elton John aptly crooned, “Sad songs they say so much.”

Never have happy or sad songs said so much as they do in Psalms—the hymnbook of the Bible. Through the verses and refrains in the 150 songs of Psalms, the cries and cheers of many musicians are recorded for us to read, hear, and take to heart.  Some stanzas were composed to celebrate a specific day or special circumstance.  Others were penned as learning aids of something new or as reminders of something old.  But most are the spontaneous offerings of honest hearts.  The words are raw with passion and pain, and the candid lyrics lace together the awe of God and the awfulness of life. This summer my prayer is that devotions about some of the Psalms will lead you to take a closer look at the entire album.  I pray that you will listen and learn.  And I hope that as their psalms become your songs, you will find yourself singing along.

During these days when the tilt of the earth invites longer and brighter rays from the sun, may the inclination of our hearts be the same.  May our delight and distress find harmony in the One who is holy. And no matter the season of our soul, may we sing. 

Watch and Pray

“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.”  Mark 14:38

I get the whole “bow your head and close your eyes when you pray” thing.  I really do.  The posture of reverence shows respect and darkness limits distractions, but, since prayer is a conversation, and since this conversation should be constant (as in “Pray without ceasing”), most of our praying should be done with eyes wide open.

In Ephesians 6:18 Paul reminds us to “be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.”  To be alert is to be vigilantly watchful—aware of situations and surroundings.  To always keep on praying means to be continually turning our thoughts into prayers. In other words, “Watch and pray.”  This line of advice comes straight from Jesus’ admonition in the garden called Gethsemane.

“He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ he said to them. ‘Stay here and keep watch’”(Mk 14:35).  Jesus bared the burden of His soul to His three closest friends and asked for their support during His heaviest hour, but His plea to watch didn’t work because they were soon snoring. “He returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. ‘Simon,’ he said to Peter, ‘are you asleep? Couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.’”(Mk 14:37-38).

While a bit earlier Jesus had said only to “watch,” he now instructed them to “watch and pray.”  Why both? What is it about the combination of watching and praying that keeps us from sleeping and straying? Could it be that temptation diminishes when we focus on the power and purpose of God? Could it be that the mere trifles of the temporary seem less appealing as we consider the eternal? Perhaps such is so….

When we watch the world around us, we see the marvel and beauty of God’s creation—and we offer our adoration.

When we watch the world around us, we see the needs of others near and far—and we lift up our petitions.

When we watch the world around us, we sense the grandeur of God’s sovereignty—and we respond in humble submission. 

When we watch the world around us, we realize we are powerless to affect lasting change—and we call on the One who can.

When we watch the world around us, we see the constant provision of a caring Father—and we give Him our gratitude. 

As the old song says, “It takes two to make a thing go right,” and it takes both recognition and response to keep us awake, alert, and on the right path. Don’t let distractions or despair lull you to spiritual slumber.  Lift up your head, open your eyes, and pour out your heart.

Watch and pray.

The Graduate (Round 2)

On Saturday, my middle daughter graduates from high school. 

I write these words more to convince myself than to inform others because the reality of this event seems elusive.  It’s hard to wrap my head (and heart) around the fact that come the end of summer, another spot at the table will be empty, another bed will stay perfectly made, the laundry load will decrease, and my prayer load will increase.  In other words, it seems impossible that Camille will be in college.

I named my girl after the bright beauty of a flower, not the howl of a hurricane (though, at times, both were fitting—just ask the nursery volunteer specifically assigned only to her each Sunday morning), but from the moment she was born, she has loved to be with people and wanted to be connected and engaged.

God filled her with a desire to dance, and if she hears music, she has to move.  From the time she could toddle, she was twirling to whatever tune was playing. She danced in her car seat.  She danced in the dressing room.  She danced in the grocery aisle.  She danced at home.  She danced at church.  She danced in the yard.  She danced in the street, so, finally, her parents signed her up for “real” dance class where, each week, with a huge smile and happy eyes, she danced across the studio floor and onto the recital stage. But I’ll mostly remember the day she danced on the bleachers. 

She was five or six, and the Newsboys were in concert at Cypress Gardens. She was captivated by the sights and sounds (and the spinning drummer), but she came most alive when the band began to play “It Is You.”  Standing on top of the bleachers, swaying to the rhythm, with her small hands and little face raised to the sky, she sweetly but boldly sang, “It is You, we adore.  It is You, praises are for.  Only You, the heavens declare, it is You.  It is You.”

By God’s grace, she’s still singing and dancing to that same theme as she dons her cap and gown and turns her tassel on Saturday, and, by His unceasing grace, that refrain will repeat over and over in her affections and actions as she packs her car, moves into the dorm, dines at the cafeteria, dashes to class, and embraces the coming years of coffee-fueled study sessions, late night donut runs, long research papers, Navs Bible studies, intramural sports, and lots of fun with friends—both old and new. 

I can’t say I’m ready to let her go.  I will miss her sleepy smiles in the mornings and her strong hugs at night.  I will miss her laugh and her sparkle.  I will miss her asking about my day and answering questions about hers.  I will miss watching her swim, study, play tennis, read books, cheer for friends, listen to music, chat with her younger sister, and dance. I will miss our movie nights and beach days. I will miss her enjoyment of coffee and excitement over brownies.  I will just miss her.  But I wouldn’t want her to miss out on a moment of what’s ahead.  Her favorite Bible verse has always been Ephesians 2:10—“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works that God has prepared in advance for us to do.”  As good as my plans for her may be, they can never compare to the great adventure God has already arranged, so, though my tears may fall, my heart is full.

God made something special when He fashioned you, my precious Camille, so go and grow.  Stay bright.  Be bold. Keep smiling. Never stop dancing.

And know that your momma loves you dearly.

Drenched

Not sure ‘bout where you live, but it’s mighty dry ‘round these parts.

Due to the lack of rain, grass is withering, trees are dying, and wildfires are blazing. Yard sprinklers can only do so much for the parched ground, and the bit of moisture they drop on a few scattered lawns has little impact on surrounding woods and lakes.  We need more than a shower.  We need a good drenching.

I hadn’t heard that word in a while, but my pastor used it last Sunday when he prayed for a fellow minister to be drenched in God’s Word.  Perhaps it was the arid air that made the reference so appropriate, but much more likely, and much more honestly, it was the dryness in my soul that caused the phrase to catch my ear.

I need to be drenched.  As of late, with the school year ending, one daughter graduating, one finishing her junior year, one completing her sophomore year in college, tennis districts, dance recital, prom, faculty meetings, and a slew of appointments, activities, and deadlines with work and church, my morning alarm has somehow crept later and later to allow for as much sleep as possible.  The result has been that the flow of God’s Word into my heart has been like the rain—diminishing. 

As I told my sweet friends at small group, sometimes it seems like I’m living off the “Verse of the Day” from my Bible app.  Thank God for that, but our souls need much more.  They need to be drenched instead of just catching a few drops from the sprinklers.

Our Father understands the seasons of our lives, and our bond with Him is a personal relationship—not a contract based on punching a time clock or checking boxes, but close relationships are created by intimacy, and intimacy is built by connection.  With God, that connection comes mainly and most through the sweet time of soaking in what He says and talking with Him about it in prayer. As His gracious Word falls on our dry or weary hearts, we are nourished and strengthened.  We are guided and encouraged.  We grow in knowing Him more and more, and His life overflows onto those around us. Sprinklers will do for a short time, but we need serious rain for the long haul, and that can only come from above.

The weather forecast may be for “hot and dry,” but God’s Word always calls for a good drenching.

“Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. He will come to us like the rain—like the spring rains that water the earth.” Hosea 6:3

Silent Saturday

On Saturday, God was silent.

Sandwiched between Friday’s horror and Sunday’s hallelujah is Saturday’s silence.  It was the Sabbath—a day of rest and rejoicing.  A time for contemplation of what God had done and anticipation of what He would do.  On Saturday, Jesus’ followers could do neither.  Rest would not come, for the reality was too raw.  And in what could they rejoice?

The dream was dead.  The final act finished, with the curtain closed forever.  This was a true tragedy—ending with the funeral of the main character. 

They were shocked and stunned.  Jesus had called and they had come, certain He was the Savior.  He spoke and the lame leaped.  He touched and the blind could see.  His word had healed desperate lepers and hailed a dead Lazarus.  Couldn’t He have done something?  Anything?

On Saturday, the disciples weren’t together.  Safety may be in numbers, but crowds bring little comfort.  Jesus had promised peace, but they were full of pain.  He had assured them of abundance, but each felt empty. And all wondered, “Why?”

The ones who loved Him weren’t waiting in hope.  They were weeping.  They didn’t dream of a vacant grave.  They were grieving.  There was no expectation.  No suspense.  No “wait and see.”  Only silence.  And the sound of heavy hearts breaking in sorrow.

We will never know the depth of their despair, for we will never spend a moment alive when Jesus is dead.

Saturday was silent, but the hush was holy.  No one heard the rustling backstage as Jesus readied for His curtain call.  They really should have known.  Many times He had told them.

All’s well that ends well.