When we think of comforts we usually think of material things. A house with plenty of room, the latest technology to keep us warm, cool, fed and at ease. Plenty of food, plenty of time and plenty of choices. A comfort may be as simple as the right pillow or as complicated as the most appropriate digital reading device.
But have you ever considered the comfort of truth?
I have been doing a little thinking about a lady many of you have heard of and many of you probably haven't. Fanny J. Crosby was an American woman born in 1820 who lost her vision as a very young child due to illness and a doctor who was unqualified to treat her. Many young people would grow bitter and callous after such circumstances but Fanny drew a strength from her family and her education that caused her to become one of the most prolific hymn writers of all time. In her lifetime she wrote over 9,000 hymns, poems and ballads.
Her life at a glance isn't remembered for it's comforts. The thought of going through life without the ability to see is a horror to some of us. Yet her story continues to resonate with millions of souls who share her love of God's grace, mercy and truth.
In reading the words she wrote I am often struck with the absence of any loss of experience or joy. She seemed to have an abundance of supernatural joy and comfort.
One of the many interesting things that I have read about Fanny Crosby is that she was raised by her grandmother who felt it imperative that Fanny learn Scripture. Possibly due to her blindness and the inability to pick up a Bible from anywhere and skim it's pages for truth, I don't know what her entire motivation was but the point is that she understood it's importance to her granddaughter. Fanny Crosby memorized entire chapters and books of the Bible. She was saturated in the Words of God and had an intimate knowledge of their truth, their joy, their comforts and their passion.
If you have the opportunity to read more about Fanny Crosby you will encounter a soul with vision far beyond mortal eyes. She could not deny light and color just because she could not see them. She chose to dwell in the shadow of the Almighty and her soul was given rest in the comforts that her body could not provide her.
I cannot help but believe as I think about a life like that of Fanny Crosby, that there is a comfort far more critical to us than our mortal bodies can imagine. The comfort of the truth is a warmth when we have grown cold, a cool breeze when we have been overwhelmed, a shade when we have been exposed and a light when we have been deceived. The comfort of truth will outlast any experience and can be drawn from to dispel any myth, temptation or distraction. Truth will blanket us when we need comfort and will free us when we are bound. But Truth will not invade us, it will only be available if we make the effort to invite it in.
Col. 3:16 "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord."
Take the time today to let the Truth of God's Word sing inside you. Give comfort a song by feeding your soul the Words of Truth from God's Word. Let Truth be the source of your joy and then shout it back to the Lord with your whole heart.
Psalm 33:1 "Rejoice in the LORD, O you righteous!
For praise from the upright is beautiful."
"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God.
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.
refrain:
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.
Perfect submission, perfect delight,
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angles descending, bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
Perfect submission, all is at rest,
I in my Savior am happy and blest;
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love."
~Fanny J. Crosby
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
UpRooted
I have the privilege of having a heritage that has allowed me to draw from a well of honorable spiritual examples. I have the pleasure of recounting a wealth of wisdom and common sense passed down through tradition and practice from well respected men and women of faith. I was planted in good soil, fed by faithful streams and abundant sunshine and watched over carefully by a diligent Shepherd. This history is like a web of roots deeply embedded into well fertilized ground that has fed my soul throughout my life.
This security is a blessing I do not discount, however it does come with it's share of issues. My history is like a warm quilt on a cold day, and asking me to change is like asking me to drop that quilt and suffer the shock of being exposed. I like the security and the warmth it provides, I'm perfectly happy here, why would I want to change? Yet consistently over the years God has moved me. He calls me up from my slumber, out of the warmth, into new paths, new ideas, new vision and exposes me to the risk and intolerance of broken tradition.
Pastor Davis has talked about change a lot lately. We are changing the way we worship, the way we do ministry, the way we present our message and even the way we save seats in the sanctuary. Of course the gospel is unchanging but our expression of truth sometimes has to be adjusted as our listening audience hears in a different language than we have spoken in past years. For some this is so difficult. I understand that. I know what it means to feel that you are abandoning the sweet words and wisdom that first comforted your weary heart. I know what it is to worship for the first time without the security of the voices and melodies of support that have always held you up. I also know what it is to grow into that new song and find that God has not changed.
As I listened to Pastor Davis' plea for change recently I questioned my own response. I wasn't shocked or dismayed by any of it. I was in fact, excited about it. Not because I like the new ways better, but because I want to see the Gospel work for sinners. My lack of shock is because I've done this before.
I was raised singing hymns out of books on wooden pews with only a pianist and a chorister to lead us. I was raised in a small church in the middle of nowhere with a Pastor who was also employed doing masonry work on the side because the church couldn't pay him enough. Things were simple and pure and truth was uncluttered. I have fond memories of those times. I can remember realizing the truth in the songs I sang. I remember how it settled in my heart and found it's way to the firmest places of my soul and took root. I love those hymns. I love the deep and poetic way they communicate God's grace, love and compassion for mankind. I love their melodies and the sound of four part harmony ringing inside the walls of a country church. Those things are not just a love of tradition for me. They are a love for the way God ministered to me, the way He introduced Himself and secured my heart forever. He is my Anchor, my Champion, my Hero and my Salvation. He used those same hymns to bring me security when I left home and found myself lonely and small. His Word and the detailed memory of those songs was a stability that carried me through those months and years.
My heart hurts when I hear people say, and I have heard this, "I hate hymns!" To them they are archaic disciplines. Unnecessary print that turns off the young and hides truth. I have learned not to be angry with those people, I have learned to understand their perspective and to realize that my experience was in some ways unique in that I was taught to actually "worship" as I sang from a book while others were simply taught to sing.
Yet, I have for years gone to a church that rarely leads our people in hymns. I questioned this and how I can still say I have roots in such a different soil but I'm firmly and happily planted in new ground.
I think the answer is the root ball.
Kris bought me two trees for Mother's Day. We took them home and planted them immediately. I don't know where they were planted as seeds and I don't know how they were fertilized or cared for, but I know that all they were given is still with them. We did not peel back the burlap sack around the roots of the tree, we simply cut off any plastic and put them into a new hole. The process will inevitably weaken the plant for a short time, but it will eventually continue it's growth. The roots are still wrapped securely in the original soil and will push through that burlap to grip the new earth around it.
Traditions and family heritage are not my salvation or my future, but I still carry the good soil they supplied for me. My roots are now extended beyond that history and as I have grown I have found new life and greater security in the new ground that God chose to plant me in. I do not have to worry, I am like that tree in Psalm 1, planted by the rivers of water who bears it's fruit in season and whose leaf does not whither.
There is argument as to God's desire to transfer everyone's life to that river with their root ball attached. What if my heritage was one of abuse, neglect and evil? What if I had little to look back on with affection? I believe God is in the business of redemption. He knows exactly what is in that root ball and He will work all things for our good (Romans 8:28). Leaving our history in tact is not leaving our sin, it is removing us from sin and planting us in new ground. That history is there but it doesn't have to dictate our growth or our fruitfulness. As long as we seek the water of His Word, stretching those roots into that new ground, believing that we are exceedingly valuable to Him or He would not have troubled Himself with asking us to change. He has great things He desires for us and through us. Things that require us to stretch, to seek His face and rest in His security.
It is not just change in our church's methods that cause us to move to new ground. There are many areas of life where change is necessary. Career and family changes, changes in direction, changes in ministry, whatever it is that God moves us to He has the water available to keep life and joy flowing in us. He will prepare us, nurture us and ensure that we are truly ready for all that He has in mind for us.
Kris' lesson this past week was about the fear of failure. That is another area that keeps us from moving forward. We grip our secure ground with fingers of steel and refuse to be pliable to God's will, because we cannot imagine the ground He's called us to being a welcome place. It's not the kind of soil we're used to, it's not in an area we are familiar and it's not among others who are like us, whatever it is, we are afraid to go.
As God leads you into new things, remember that being uprooted is not a call to leave your appreciation or your history behind. It is not a sentence to struggle and fail the rest of your life. It simply means that your fruit is needed in new places. It is an opportunity to take all the good, the bad and the ugly of your past soil and allow the good soil of the Word of God to enrich it and make you even more fruitful for the Kingdom of God.
Rivers change, the recent flooding has changed the geography of Tennessee in certain areas. Sometimes the path of the river moves to ground that was unable to receive it before. To remain well fed and fruitful, we must allow God to plant us in that new ground as well. Those who refuse to change may find comfort in the security of their tradition and familiarity but will soon lose the ability to grow for lack of living water.
Higher Ground - Johnson Oatman, Jr., 1898
I'm pressing on the upward way,
New heights I'm gaining every day;
Still praying as I onward bound,
"Lord, plant my feet on higher ground."
refrain:
Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith on Heaven's tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
I want to live above the world,
Though Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I'll pray till rest I've found,
"Lord, lead me on to higher ground."
He will not disappoint. Do not settle for what is comfortable. Find the usable parts of where you are, the joyful things, the Godly things and allow them to encourage you to move forward.
"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6 NASB
This security is a blessing I do not discount, however it does come with it's share of issues. My history is like a warm quilt on a cold day, and asking me to change is like asking me to drop that quilt and suffer the shock of being exposed. I like the security and the warmth it provides, I'm perfectly happy here, why would I want to change? Yet consistently over the years God has moved me. He calls me up from my slumber, out of the warmth, into new paths, new ideas, new vision and exposes me to the risk and intolerance of broken tradition.
Pastor Davis has talked about change a lot lately. We are changing the way we worship, the way we do ministry, the way we present our message and even the way we save seats in the sanctuary. Of course the gospel is unchanging but our expression of truth sometimes has to be adjusted as our listening audience hears in a different language than we have spoken in past years. For some this is so difficult. I understand that. I know what it means to feel that you are abandoning the sweet words and wisdom that first comforted your weary heart. I know what it is to worship for the first time without the security of the voices and melodies of support that have always held you up. I also know what it is to grow into that new song and find that God has not changed.
As I listened to Pastor Davis' plea for change recently I questioned my own response. I wasn't shocked or dismayed by any of it. I was in fact, excited about it. Not because I like the new ways better, but because I want to see the Gospel work for sinners. My lack of shock is because I've done this before.
I was raised singing hymns out of books on wooden pews with only a pianist and a chorister to lead us. I was raised in a small church in the middle of nowhere with a Pastor who was also employed doing masonry work on the side because the church couldn't pay him enough. Things were simple and pure and truth was uncluttered. I have fond memories of those times. I can remember realizing the truth in the songs I sang. I remember how it settled in my heart and found it's way to the firmest places of my soul and took root. I love those hymns. I love the deep and poetic way they communicate God's grace, love and compassion for mankind. I love their melodies and the sound of four part harmony ringing inside the walls of a country church. Those things are not just a love of tradition for me. They are a love for the way God ministered to me, the way He introduced Himself and secured my heart forever. He is my Anchor, my Champion, my Hero and my Salvation. He used those same hymns to bring me security when I left home and found myself lonely and small. His Word and the detailed memory of those songs was a stability that carried me through those months and years.
My heart hurts when I hear people say, and I have heard this, "I hate hymns!" To them they are archaic disciplines. Unnecessary print that turns off the young and hides truth. I have learned not to be angry with those people, I have learned to understand their perspective and to realize that my experience was in some ways unique in that I was taught to actually "worship" as I sang from a book while others were simply taught to sing.
Yet, I have for years gone to a church that rarely leads our people in hymns. I questioned this and how I can still say I have roots in such a different soil but I'm firmly and happily planted in new ground.
I think the answer is the root ball.
Kris bought me two trees for Mother's Day. We took them home and planted them immediately. I don't know where they were planted as seeds and I don't know how they were fertilized or cared for, but I know that all they were given is still with them. We did not peel back the burlap sack around the roots of the tree, we simply cut off any plastic and put them into a new hole. The process will inevitably weaken the plant for a short time, but it will eventually continue it's growth. The roots are still wrapped securely in the original soil and will push through that burlap to grip the new earth around it.
Traditions and family heritage are not my salvation or my future, but I still carry the good soil they supplied for me. My roots are now extended beyond that history and as I have grown I have found new life and greater security in the new ground that God chose to plant me in. I do not have to worry, I am like that tree in Psalm 1, planted by the rivers of water who bears it's fruit in season and whose leaf does not whither.
There is argument as to God's desire to transfer everyone's life to that river with their root ball attached. What if my heritage was one of abuse, neglect and evil? What if I had little to look back on with affection? I believe God is in the business of redemption. He knows exactly what is in that root ball and He will work all things for our good (Romans 8:28). Leaving our history in tact is not leaving our sin, it is removing us from sin and planting us in new ground. That history is there but it doesn't have to dictate our growth or our fruitfulness. As long as we seek the water of His Word, stretching those roots into that new ground, believing that we are exceedingly valuable to Him or He would not have troubled Himself with asking us to change. He has great things He desires for us and through us. Things that require us to stretch, to seek His face and rest in His security.
It is not just change in our church's methods that cause us to move to new ground. There are many areas of life where change is necessary. Career and family changes, changes in direction, changes in ministry, whatever it is that God moves us to He has the water available to keep life and joy flowing in us. He will prepare us, nurture us and ensure that we are truly ready for all that He has in mind for us.
Kris' lesson this past week was about the fear of failure. That is another area that keeps us from moving forward. We grip our secure ground with fingers of steel and refuse to be pliable to God's will, because we cannot imagine the ground He's called us to being a welcome place. It's not the kind of soil we're used to, it's not in an area we are familiar and it's not among others who are like us, whatever it is, we are afraid to go.
As God leads you into new things, remember that being uprooted is not a call to leave your appreciation or your history behind. It is not a sentence to struggle and fail the rest of your life. It simply means that your fruit is needed in new places. It is an opportunity to take all the good, the bad and the ugly of your past soil and allow the good soil of the Word of God to enrich it and make you even more fruitful for the Kingdom of God.
Rivers change, the recent flooding has changed the geography of Tennessee in certain areas. Sometimes the path of the river moves to ground that was unable to receive it before. To remain well fed and fruitful, we must allow God to plant us in that new ground as well. Those who refuse to change may find comfort in the security of their tradition and familiarity but will soon lose the ability to grow for lack of living water.
Higher Ground - Johnson Oatman, Jr., 1898
I'm pressing on the upward way,
New heights I'm gaining every day;
Still praying as I onward bound,
"Lord, plant my feet on higher ground."
refrain:
Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith on Heaven's tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
I want to live above the world,
Though Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I'll pray till rest I've found,
"Lord, lead me on to higher ground."
He will not disappoint. Do not settle for what is comfortable. Find the usable parts of where you are, the joyful things, the Godly things and allow them to encourage you to move forward.
"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6 NASB
Monday, May 10, 2010
Abundant Redemption
Recently I went through a rather rough day. I got a traffic ticket for failure to stop at a stop sign. To tell you the truth, that's the extent of it. That's all it took to take an otherwise good day and make it a rough one for me. I hate that. I look back on that day and pretty much all of it fades into oblivion except for that ticket. I do remember that it was a Wednesday and that I was on my way to church when it happened.
Church was just right for me. Turns out Pastor Davis shared a lot about grace. Probably because he got a speeding ticket that morning. As silly as it may be, that made me feel a little bit better.
That night on the way home Owen kept insisting that we look for the International Space Station. I told Owen to ask his dad to look it up for him. Kris knew that the Space Station typically flies over our area of the world during the wee hours of the morning so he was surprised, once he obliged Owen, to find that we were mere minutes away from it's scheduled orbit. He called to me upstairs where I was just getting the boy's pajamas out and said we should go outside to see it. So the whole family scrambled for shoes and stood out in the middle of the street in front of our house and looked to the western sky.
Kris said, "There it is!" and it wasn't hard to pick out the moving light that appeared out of nowhere. The boys were uncommonly quiet. I held Aron whose favorite position is to rest his cheek against mine while I'm holding him. He and I stared at the sky as I pointed his eyes in the right direction with my finger. Owen and Ivan were standing at their daddy's feet with their eyes wide and their mouths open looking at distances they have no way of fathoming. I was content. I was almost emotional as I shared that moment with my little family. I stood there and thought to God and to myself. This ought to help redeem this day.
He responded.
I guess I was a little surprised that He was listening, though by now I shouldn't be. And I did get emotional when I heard, "How much redemption do you need?"
It wasn't a sarcastic question. There was no admonition or conviction. It was an offer. As if He were just waiting for someone to ask Him for it. As if He was excited that I had asked Him for something He has so much of and is so willing to give.
I just stood there and wept. "I don't know," I thought. I just knew I needed it.
Over and over again, I need it. We talked about restoration and redemption at our weekend retreat and I get it. I mean, I know that He can do things in me and through me that on my own I'm incapable of. I know that He can fix what's broken in me and that He can make me more than just acceptable, He can make me desirable. I guess what floors me sometimes is not that He changes me, it's that He changes everything. He doesn't just forgive me and lead me to the right path. He makes the path a little bit heavenly. He has unending resources of comfort, peace and security that redeem not just the life I've controlled and failed at, but the tomorrow I should have had is turned into a tomorrow He had planned all along.
I still have to pay my ticket. It's sitting right here in front of me. Those consequences do not change, but He wants to get me past the humiliation, He wants to give me daily proof that I am not someone who deserves to be humiliated. He renews daily, as I die daily.
Salvation came to me as a little girl on my knees. I accepted it and haven't doubted it since. Redemption is an endless supply of mercy that salvation purchased for me. It is a well I drink from as often as I choose. It never runs dry, it never gets stale, warm or bitter. Living water is sweet, cool and refreshing. It is constantly renewing and available.
So often though, I choose to attempt redemption on my own. Little comforts and distractions get me through for a while but nothing refreshes like God's mercy and forgiveness. I am realizing more and more the freedom we have in releasing our hurts, cares, mistakes and blunders to His abundant mercy.
I read Psalm 40 last night and found a lasting comfort, redemption if you will, in these words:
" 13 Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me;
O LORD, make haste to help me!
14 Let them be ashamed and brought to mutual confusion
Who seek to destroy my life;
Let them be driven backward and brought to dishonor
Who wish me evil.
15 Let them be confounded because of their shame,
Who say to me, “Aha, aha!”
16 Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;
Let such as love Your salvation say continually,
“The LORD be magnified!”
17 But I am poor and needy;
Yet the LORD thinks upon me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
Do not delay, O my God."
The Psalmist is so aware of His position. Like him, we are constantly in the eye of our Deliverer, constantly within reach of His mercy. We do not receive it though, unless we are willing to look up from the slightest care and say..."I need you."
"I lost my temper with the kids again Lord, I need your redemption."
"I did nothing but complain to my husband today Lord, I need your redemption."
"I haven't got the strength to get through another day of discouragement Lord, I need your redemption."
"I can't take another outburst from these people, I need your redemption."
"This child will not be listen to me, I need your redemption."
"My husband is unwilling to surrender to your will, I need your redemption."
"I can't change this! I need your redemption."
Sometimes God's goal in our lives is not to provide a green pasture for us, sometimes His desire is for us to trust Him through the dark valley. His redemption is not just for our mistakes, it's for our circumstances our offenses and our pain. He can redeem wasted time, harsh words, fallen dreams and ruined relationships. But He can only do it with our permission.
Realize what the Psalmist wrote: "Yet the Lord thinks upon me." He's watching, waiting for your request, your vulnerable plea and your trust in what He can do.
I love this verse: "Also draw out the spear, and stop those who pursue me. Say to my soul, “I am your salvation.” " Psalm 35:3
He's asking God to be his hero. We don't do that enough. We don't look to our God and just tell Him what we want. The Psalmist isn't just asking God to show up, he says, "convince me!" He wants God to do more than just stop the enemy, he wants a lasting conviction within his soul, that there is nothing else that can save him. "I am your salvation." How desperately God desires to tell us those words.
The next time things don't go your way, don't fret, don't whine and don't complain, listen for your Redeemer. When you need redemption don't be shy, He is asking you with an eager heart and a generous love, "How much do you need?"
Church was just right for me. Turns out Pastor Davis shared a lot about grace. Probably because he got a speeding ticket that morning. As silly as it may be, that made me feel a little bit better.
That night on the way home Owen kept insisting that we look for the International Space Station. I told Owen to ask his dad to look it up for him. Kris knew that the Space Station typically flies over our area of the world during the wee hours of the morning so he was surprised, once he obliged Owen, to find that we were mere minutes away from it's scheduled orbit. He called to me upstairs where I was just getting the boy's pajamas out and said we should go outside to see it. So the whole family scrambled for shoes and stood out in the middle of the street in front of our house and looked to the western sky.
Kris said, "There it is!" and it wasn't hard to pick out the moving light that appeared out of nowhere. The boys were uncommonly quiet. I held Aron whose favorite position is to rest his cheek against mine while I'm holding him. He and I stared at the sky as I pointed his eyes in the right direction with my finger. Owen and Ivan were standing at their daddy's feet with their eyes wide and their mouths open looking at distances they have no way of fathoming. I was content. I was almost emotional as I shared that moment with my little family. I stood there and thought to God and to myself. This ought to help redeem this day.
He responded.
I guess I was a little surprised that He was listening, though by now I shouldn't be. And I did get emotional when I heard, "How much redemption do you need?"
It wasn't a sarcastic question. There was no admonition or conviction. It was an offer. As if He were just waiting for someone to ask Him for it. As if He was excited that I had asked Him for something He has so much of and is so willing to give.
I just stood there and wept. "I don't know," I thought. I just knew I needed it.
Over and over again, I need it. We talked about restoration and redemption at our weekend retreat and I get it. I mean, I know that He can do things in me and through me that on my own I'm incapable of. I know that He can fix what's broken in me and that He can make me more than just acceptable, He can make me desirable. I guess what floors me sometimes is not that He changes me, it's that He changes everything. He doesn't just forgive me and lead me to the right path. He makes the path a little bit heavenly. He has unending resources of comfort, peace and security that redeem not just the life I've controlled and failed at, but the tomorrow I should have had is turned into a tomorrow He had planned all along.
I still have to pay my ticket. It's sitting right here in front of me. Those consequences do not change, but He wants to get me past the humiliation, He wants to give me daily proof that I am not someone who deserves to be humiliated. He renews daily, as I die daily.
Salvation came to me as a little girl on my knees. I accepted it and haven't doubted it since. Redemption is an endless supply of mercy that salvation purchased for me. It is a well I drink from as often as I choose. It never runs dry, it never gets stale, warm or bitter. Living water is sweet, cool and refreshing. It is constantly renewing and available.
So often though, I choose to attempt redemption on my own. Little comforts and distractions get me through for a while but nothing refreshes like God's mercy and forgiveness. I am realizing more and more the freedom we have in releasing our hurts, cares, mistakes and blunders to His abundant mercy.
I read Psalm 40 last night and found a lasting comfort, redemption if you will, in these words:
" 13 Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me;
O LORD, make haste to help me!
14 Let them be ashamed and brought to mutual confusion
Who seek to destroy my life;
Let them be driven backward and brought to dishonor
Who wish me evil.
15 Let them be confounded because of their shame,
Who say to me, “Aha, aha!”
16 Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;
Let such as love Your salvation say continually,
“The LORD be magnified!”
17 But I am poor and needy;
Yet the LORD thinks upon me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
Do not delay, O my God."
The Psalmist is so aware of His position. Like him, we are constantly in the eye of our Deliverer, constantly within reach of His mercy. We do not receive it though, unless we are willing to look up from the slightest care and say..."I need you."
"I lost my temper with the kids again Lord, I need your redemption."
"I did nothing but complain to my husband today Lord, I need your redemption."
"I haven't got the strength to get through another day of discouragement Lord, I need your redemption."
"I can't take another outburst from these people, I need your redemption."
"This child will not be listen to me, I need your redemption."
"My husband is unwilling to surrender to your will, I need your redemption."
"I can't change this! I need your redemption."
Sometimes God's goal in our lives is not to provide a green pasture for us, sometimes His desire is for us to trust Him through the dark valley. His redemption is not just for our mistakes, it's for our circumstances our offenses and our pain. He can redeem wasted time, harsh words, fallen dreams and ruined relationships. But He can only do it with our permission.
Realize what the Psalmist wrote: "Yet the Lord thinks upon me." He's watching, waiting for your request, your vulnerable plea and your trust in what He can do.
I love this verse: "Also draw out the spear, and stop those who pursue me. Say to my soul, “I am your salvation.” " Psalm 35:3
He's asking God to be his hero. We don't do that enough. We don't look to our God and just tell Him what we want. The Psalmist isn't just asking God to show up, he says, "convince me!" He wants God to do more than just stop the enemy, he wants a lasting conviction within his soul, that there is nothing else that can save him. "I am your salvation." How desperately God desires to tell us those words.
The next time things don't go your way, don't fret, don't whine and don't complain, listen for your Redeemer. When you need redemption don't be shy, He is asking you with an eager heart and a generous love, "How much do you need?"
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