Sleep (Psalm 3:5)

The mighty man after God's own heart did not accomplish his greatest exploit on a battlefield.  Rather he did it on a pillow.  With the kingdom lost, the army at his heels and his heart broken by the betrayal of his unnatural son, David said, "I laid me down and slept." (Psalm 3:5)  His was the sweet sleep of peace.  He lay down under a blanket of night fully confident in the saving power of God.  "And the king said...if I shall find favor in the eyes of the Lord, He will bring me again..." (2 Samuel 15:25)  Fretting the night awake would have been natural; sleeping when all was lost was a mammoth feat of faith.

Our mighty God worked His most glorious act not in creating the heavens, nor in breathing life into man.  Rather He did it while closing His eyes in sleep.  With the enemy exultant and my sin braking His heart He said, "It is finished: and He bowed His head..." (John 19:30)  His was the sleep of a conquerer.  He closed His eyes confident in the saving power of God.  "And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, He said, Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, He gave up the ghost."  (Luke 23:46)  Rousing His strength to destroy His foes would have been expected; sleeping in death to save the lost revealed His glory.

Psalm 2:4

"He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision." 

"They scoff at us, God laughs at them. Laugh? This seems a hard word at the first view: are the injuries of his saints, the cruelties of their enemies, the derision, the persecution of all that are round about us, no more but matter of laughter? Severe Cato thought that laughter did not become the gravity of Roman consuls; that it is a diminution of states, as another told princes, and it is attributed to the Majesty of heaven? According to our capacities, the prophet describes God, as ourselves would be in a merry disposition, deriding vain attempts. He laughs, but it is in scorn; he scorns, but it is with vengeance. Pharaoh imagined that by drowning the Israelite males, he had found a way to root their name from the earth; but when at the same time, his own daughter, in his own court gave princely education to Moses, their deliverer, did not God Laugh?
    Short is the joy of the wicked. Is Dagon put up to his place again? God's smile shall take off his head and his hands, and leave him neither wit to guide nor power to subsist. . . . . We may not judge of God's works until the fifth act: the case, deplorable and desperate in outward appearance, may with one smile from heaven find a blessed issue. He permitted his temple to be sacked and rifled, the holy vessels to be profaned and caroused in; but did not God's smile make Belshazzar to tremble at the handwriting on the wall? Oh, what are his frowns, if his smiles be so terrible!"  Thomas Adams.

Bearing Seed...

"And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind..." Genesis 1:12

Bearing seed costs something.

For He shall grow up before Him as a tender plant, 

and as a root out of a dry ground: hath no form nor comeliness;

and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him. 

He is despised and rejected of men;

a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief:

and we hid as it were our faces from Him;

He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.

Surely He hath borne our griefs,

and carried our sorrows:

yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted.

But He was wounded for our transgressions,

He was bruised for our iniquities:

the chastisement of our peace was upon Him;

and with His stripes we are healed...

...and the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all...

when thou shalt make His soul an offering for sin,

He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand.  He shall see the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied...        

Isaiah 53: 2-11

Clarity

Rain blew the Nashua into a puffy ribbon.   Although the river was high from the previous week's showers, our trip was scheduled and we would go.  Beth and I sat opposite each other, with my sons then aged two and four, in between.  Most of the group shared canoes.   Our leaders, the only experienced canoeists, each took their own vessel.  We launched off into the unknown believing we would arrive at the rendezvous tired, but happy.

We skimmed along the center of the river when suddenly the Nashua began to lather. Our fears rose like the river, but the experienced pilots shouted a whoop and took off down stream as fast as they could go!  Confused, the rest of us navigated towards the shore.  Not knowing what to do, we decided to stay close and continue toward the pick-up point; after all the trip was only supposed to be two hours long and we had already done one hour, so we were halfway home.

Over the next five hours we landlubbers struggled to stay afloat.  We saw water snakes, were heaved by the class three rapids and capsized repeatedly.  After a small drop in the river my canoe flipped and Gabriel was pulled under and driven past my reach.  Miraculously one of the two men that had stayed with us jumped out of his canoe and rescued him.  Once Gabriel was safe in my arms, I said, "Enough!"  I told the group I was taking my sons and leaving the river.  As Beth and I steered our vessel toward that shore everyone else followed.  We parked our canoes on the sand and climbed the 100 foot ravine toward the highway.  That was my first and last trip on the Nashua.

In thinking about that day I remember the intense clarity with which I knew it was time to get off the river.  We had been committed to the plan.  We persevered and battled the element, but when the water took Gabriel the spell was broken.  We realized the trip, and the canoes were not worth a life.  That small moment shed light on the situation and we changed course.

Every life has illuminating moments.  They clear the muddy waters and show a change of course is due.  Each ray, clearing up confusion, is sent from God.  The thing is that light is stalking us at every turn.   If we take our eyes off the rapids, let go of the paddles and earnestly look there is brilliance all around.  The first words spoken in our universe were, "Let there be light." Genesis 1: 3.  And God has not stopped pouring light into this darkness.  Above the clouds, in spite of fog and beyond the night the sun shines.

"God is light." (1 John 1:6)  He bathes us with His light.  In tremulous storms, He sends fire bolts to clear our troubles.  On the darkest ocean, waves swirl into luminous arches.  He lightens confusion and brightens our path.  If we look at Him, our choices loom clear and our way glows brilliantly.  But we must choose to look in His direction.  We must turn our eyes toward the Son.

The Bridegroom

"...We have a Saviour who long ago laid down His life for us, and that life is still laid down for you and me.  Do you know what He is longing for?  For us to be with Him.  This yearning desire fills His soul, and He can never rest satisfied until ransom brings reunion.  Listen to this poignant appeal sent to us many years ago: "Leaving the first love is represented as a spiritual fall.  Many have fallen thus.  In every church in our land, there is needed confession, repentance, and reconversion.  The disappointment of Christ is beyond description."  (RH December 15, 1904, p.8).

Yes, here is the real disappointment, the great disappointment.  Think of the bridegroom waiting for the wedding while year after year goes by.  Don't His people want to be with Him?  God's people have just one business - to make Jesus glad, to satisfy His heart-longing..." (Ransom and Reunion, W. D. Frazee; p 118)

Alpha and Omega

First Breath

First Teeth

First Step

First Friend

First School-day

First Job

First Love

First Child

First Wrinkle

First Death

At the end of it all there is... Jesus.

Last Sigh

Last Hunger

Last Fall

Last Parting

Last Lonely-day

Last Separation

Last Loss

Last Pain

Last Injury

Last Death

At the beginning of it all there is... Jesus

Hosanna, part 2

Psalms of lament express our human condition.  They cry for help from adversity and sorrow; or for succor from anguish and shame. They usually address God, offer Him a complaint, make a request and express trust in His deliverance.

As Christians, we all believe in God and His sovereignty.  As human beings we all know how to complain and ask for things.  The secret power in a psalm of lament is the last part; expressing trust in His deliverance.

Consider the problems David protests about in Psalm 27:

     "...the wicked...came upon me to eat up my flesh...
an host...encamp against me...war should rise against me...
     the time of trouble...
my father and my mother forsake me...
     false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty."

These difficulties are more than most of us have ever known; yet in the midst of those trials He writes words of praise and trust that are unsurpassed.

     "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?
the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid...
     For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion:
in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me;
     He shall set me up upon a rock...
When my father and my mother forsake me,
     then the Lord will take me up...
I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
     Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart:
wait, I say, on the Lord."

The combination of trial and triumph is sublime.  Hosanna to the Son of David.  Hosanna to our God!