Psalm 51

Psalm 51  was written by David when the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.

"1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. 4 Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and justified when you judge. 5 Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. 6 Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place. 7 Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. 10 Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. 13Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will turn back to you. 14 Save me from bloodguilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing  of your righteousness. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. 17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. 18 In your good pleasure make Zion prosper; build up walls of Jerusalem. 19 Then there will be righteous sacrifices, whole burnt offerings to delight you; then bulls will be offered on your altar." 

I love David's example of confession. David is aware of God's justice (vs. 4), yet He begins by appealing to God's attributes of mercy and compassion. David fully recognizes his sin. He does not make excuses or try to justify it. Instead he openly admits he is aware of his sin and it has been constantly eating away at him. David doesn't just ask God to forgive his sins though, He asks God to create within him a pure heart and steadfast spirit. David comes before the Lord fully aware his actions warrant judgement, yet he appeals to God's mercy knowing the Lord does not despise a broken and contrite heart.

How often do I try to justify my sin? Do I make excuses for my wrongdoing? Surely God is compassionate and merciful, but do I truly come broken and contrite? Do I stop at asking God for forgiveness or do I beg for Him to keep me close and guide me with His Holy Spirit so I do not fall back into sin? Do I proclaim God's righteousness and praise Him for his forgiveness or do I keep it to myself? How do I confess my sin before the Lord?

Do you want to get well?

I can't get it off my mind; this story, this man. I first encountered it last spring when I began reading Truly Fed by Gari Meacham. Much of this post is largely based off what I learned in the first chapter of her book then. However, as time goes on and life happens I find myself returning time and time again to this story.

"Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked."

                                                                                                      John 5:1-9 ESV

 Thirty-eight years . . . thirty-eight years he had been an invalid. Who knows how many of those thirty-eight years he had spent lying next to pool of Bethesda. Maybe he had tried to be cured for years, I don't know; but, he was there at the pool, desperate, with any hope he had left thrown to a local superstition. It was said that the pool had healing power, that from time to time an angle of the Lord would come down and stir the waters. Supposedly the first person to enter the waters after such a disturbance would be cured of whatever infirmity they had (Bible Knowledge Commentary). This man had come to the pool hoping to be healed, but it had not happened yet.

"Jesus saw this man lying in an alcove, crumbled on his bedroll. He knew he had been in this state a long time, and without any small talk or meaningless conversation, He probed to the very soul of the man by asking 'Do you want to get well?' (Meacham, 13)." This seems like an absurd question for Jesus to ask. I mean, it was obvious that the man was at the pool to get healed. Yet, Jesus deliberately asked the man, "Do you want to get well?" Why? Perhaps the man originally had come to the pool with a hope of healing, but that hope had all but died. Maybe after thirty-eight years the man had grown accustomed to his state. To be healed would bring responsibility, change, and the discomfort of the unfamiliar. To be healed would be letting go of all that he had known as life for so long. Jesus probably knew the answer, but he wanted the man to look deep within himself. The man responded to Jesus with excuses. There was no one to help him and other people, well they always got to the water first. So Jesus told him to stand up,  pick up his mat, and walk.  He left the man with a choice. The man could trust and move or remain in his excuses sitting on his mat. Jesus was willing and able to heal the man, but the man had to choose to accept healing.

I am an invalid; not physically, but in so many other ways. I am not thirty-eight, but already I have easily become accustomed to my state of paralysis. I don't necessarily like it, but it is predictable, comfortable, familiar. I can remember hoping for healing, yet its been so long my hopes have all but died. I can't imagine life without my paralysis. I have tried various remedies, yet they each have failed. It seems impossible to be healed, every time I think I'm getting into that pool I find I'm too late or I just can't do it myself.

I'm lying on my mat paralyzed. I hear the question He asks, but I can't look up, I'm mumbling excuses. To be healed I have to trust Him, I have to believe that He can truly heal me, but I can't imagine it. To be healed I have to move towards freedom by standing up, I can't lie on my mat and be healed, but I lack the energy to get up. To be healed I have to pick up my mat, letting go of my past, and walk, but I fear the unfamiliar. In my head the answer is an obvious "yes," I don't like living in this state of paralysis, but my heart does not seem to agree. I know I should be like the man and get up, yet my heart is resistant to change. I want it so bad, yet I am still resisting. "Isn't it interesting that the very thing that paralyzes our lives becomes something we hang on to and refuse to change?" (Meacham, 12).

I can't get this man, this story, off my mind. Do I want to get well? Do I want to be healed?

"O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me." Psalm 30:2

Above the clouds

The clouds were like a fluffy blanket below as I looked out the window of the airplane. A feeling of amazement washed over me as I looked at the small world below. What seemed so big in life on the ground had quickly become nothing but a pinpoint vanishing out of sight as the plane broke through the clouds. Seeing this larger perspective made me feel small and insignificant.

As I flew home from Alaska I was struck with the thought that the larger perspective I was viewing above the clouds must be similar to God's perspective on life. He sees a much bigger picture; not just the next week or month of  life. Not just the next year, but He sees from the beginning of time till the end of time. My view of life hardly consists of a day, His view spans eras, kingdoms, wars, and ages. When I considered His view I felt a sting within my soul.

I have come to realize that as a perfectionist I allow very small details to become giant. Sometimes the smallest details take over my entire perspective on life. For instance, if I have not accomplished something I feel like I have failed my entire life. Or if it is rainy I let it ruin my entire day. Or I will spend hours agonizing over which pair of shoes to purchase. The small details explode taking over my entire perspective on life. In the bigger picture these details are insignificant, yet I allow them to rule my feelings, thoughts, and actions in the moment. Most of the details I worry or stress over other people would hardly notice. My perspective is so small. It does not see past the moment, past me.

For a moment on that plane I saw that the small details were meaningless and invisible when I looked down from above the clouds. How can I keep my perspective above the clouds? How do I see the small details in their true size, just a pinpoint that vanishes? How can I prevent them from blowing up and taking over my entire life? How can I remove my priorities which relate to the moment and replace them with God's priorities which relate to eternity? I want to rise up, to keep my perspective above the clouds where I see the larger picture of God's plan, not my own. How can I keep my perspective above the clouds?

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18

What I do, not just what I say or know

Life has gotten pretty busy for me as of late hence the lack of blog posts. Work is consuming much of my life and I find myself with very little free time these days, especially for blogging. This is unfortunate because I learn so much when I blog about what the Lord is teaching me in my life. It causes me to take a moment out of my day to contemplate Scripture, evaluate my life, and respond. In no way do I fully grasp or perfectly carry out that which I write about. I do not "have it together," I need to read these Scriptures and reflections more than anyone else. I blog to share sure, but mostly I blog to myself.

Another area of life that goes by the wayside when life gets busy is my quiet time alone with the Lord in His Word and in prayer. There are so many important things grabbing for my attention and I tell myself I will "just do it later." Most often though, "later" never comes, or when it does, I find myself just scanning the passages with my eyes while my mind is wandering elsewhere. It becomes something to check off my to-do list instead of a true encounter with a friend filled with deep conversation.When my quiet time with the Lord slips out of my daily routine I find myself drastically altered. I revert to my natural tendencies of impatience, worry, fear, complaining, pessimistic viewpoints, anger . . . sin. I feel tired, frazzled, empty, unsatisfied, and unsettled. I do this over and over again when life gets busy. I say that being in the Word is important and I know the benefits which come from time with the Lord. I say that it is a priority and I know my life should center around my relationship with the Lord not the other way around. I say and I know, yet I do not do. So, what does that mean?

James 3 says, "what good is it my brothers if someone says he has faith, but does not have works. Can that faith save him?" What I truly believe is reflected in my actions. Jesus said, "For from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice . . . " (Mark 7:21). Out of the heart come actions. Jesus also says in Matthew 16:27 that when He comes again, "he will reward each person according to what he has done." My actions, not what I say or what I know, will be rewarded because they  reveal what I actually believe in my heart. It is easy to state my belief in what is right or to know what is right and yet, NOT do it! However, I find it extremely difficult to do the right thing without truly believing it.

What do I really believe? Is it what I say or what I know or is it what I am doing? If its what I say or what I know, I need to change what I'm doing. If Jesus is the center of my life, if I love Him more than anything else, than my life (time, investments, finances, priorities) should reflect it.

"Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name." Psalm 85:11

Afraid To Ask

Sometime last year I heard a sermon on Luke 11, Jesus' teaching on prayer. At the time it was intriguing and thought provoking, but it is even more so as of late. Chapter 11 of Luke opens with the disciples asking Jesus to teach them to pray. Jesus responds with what we typically call the Lord's Prayer. He then goes on to tell a parable about a man who goes to a friends' door at midnight and ask for three loaves of bread because he has nothing to set before a visiting friend has come from a long journey. The friend tells the man to go away because his household is shut up for the night, but the man is persistent and bold, so the friend gets up and gives him as much as he needs. Jesus then says:

"So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."

Persistent, desperate, bold, dependent--that is Jesus' description of what a believer's prayer towards God should be. Just like the man got up to give his friend as much as he needs, Jesus promises that what is asked for will be given.

I am pretty good at asking God for what I think I need. Honestly, I would say the majority of my prayers revolve around asking the Lord for a variety of needs for myself or others. It isn't the asking that I struggle with, its the answering. Jesus said, what is asked for will be given, but sometimes I don't get what I ask for. This may be because what I am asking for is not in God's will (Jonah 4:3, 1 Kings 19:4, Mark 10:34-45). It may be because I ask with the wrong motives as James 4:3 describes. After all, my "heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure" Jeremiah 17:9. It could be because there is sin in my life (Isaiah 59:2). Whatever the reason, the truth is I don't always get what I ask for. Knowing that, sometimes I fear answers. I fear I won't like them. I fear they won't make me happy. I fear God's will might be something I don't want or even worse, something I hate. Surely, what I want is best . . . right?

Luke 11 goes on to say:

"Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

I've never been a parent before, but I've been told by numerous parents how much they desire their children's happiness. If it is in their power to influence the happiness and satisfaction of their children they will do so. God is not any different, in fact, He desires His children's satisfaction even more because of His perfect holiness. He does not desire to give that which would bring harm, such as a snake or scorpion. He wants what is best for His children. He gives good gifts. James 1:17 says, "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." Psalms 84:11 says, "no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless."

Sometimes I think what I want is best, but sometimes, maybe, I am unknowingly asking for a scorpion or a snake? I get caught up in thinking what I am asking for is what will make me happiest. I can't imagine there being anything else that could be better. So I fear--in pride, in ignorance, in lack of trust. While I may not be able to comprehend it or imagine it, God has a better gift. He wants the best for me, but it may not be what I think is best. I should not fear God's answer, because it is going to bring me good, not harm. It is going to be in my best interest. It is going to make me happiest. I must trust in His goodness and love for me. I must keep on asking--persistent, desperate, bold, dependent.

He Gives And Takes Away

It was a late summer sunrise. The kind where you just begin to feel the coolness of fall in the dampness of the air, yet the rising sun warms your skin. I was headed out for an early morning run before heading off to work at dispatch. As I began my run I tried to focus my thoughts towards prayer, but as always my mind wandered off in other directions. Somewhere between contemplating life and praying I was struck clearly with this thought: the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. I have no idea where it came from, because I don't recall having been reading through Job in which verse 1:21 says,

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."

All I know is that I couldn't ignore the thought in my mind. It was there definite, intense, and unshakeable. So I began to wonder, is the Lord trying to tell me something? What could he possibly take from my life? Thousands of possibilities ran through my mind--family, my last year of college, friends, finances? I had no clue. Maybe it wasn't about what the Lord might take from me though. . .

The story of Job has always been puzzling and fascinating to me. It is unique in that it allows us a glimpse into interactions between God and Satan. In addition, it shows Satan's influence and work on earth. The very first verse of the book introduces Job as a man who "was blameless and upright; [who] feared God and shunned evil." Job is also described as having "seven sons, three daughters, seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen and five hundred donkeys, and a large number of servants. He was the greatest man among all the people of the East." As the story goes, God leaves everything Job has to Satan's discretion. In one day Job's sons and daughters die, his servants are killed, his fields burn up, and his livestock are carried off by raiding parties. One day, all of his worldly possessions gone. However, this is how the blameless and upright man who feared God responded:

"Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said: 'Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.' In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing." Job 1:20-22

In a moment of extreme loss and intense grief Job worshiped God. Pretty amazing, but it gets even crazier! God then leaves Job's personal health at Satan's discretion and so Satan afflicted Job with sores that covered his entire body. Job's wife told him to curse God and die, but Job replied:

 "You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" Job 1:10

Job's entire life was destroyed, miserable, empty. The people he loved, the things he had worked for, his own comfort, were taken in a moment, gone forever. He mourned tearing his robes and shaving his head, but he did not give into the bitterness. He refused to blame God for wrongdoing. Instead he chose to recognize God's sovereignty. 

Many times since last summer I have thought about Job's response and it never ceases to amaze me. When I line up the trials I'm experiencing to those around me, or to the story of Job,  they seem so small. I try to imagine how I would respond if I just lost one of those things, say a loved one. Would I fall down in worship? If I lost my health, say the use of my legs, would I recognize God's sovereignty? If I found myself living in a rundown house or out on the street, would I blame God for wrongdoing? Would I give into bitterness? Could I have the same attitude as Job?

Maybe that morning last summer wasn't about what God might take from me. Maybe it was about the position of my heart. Perhaps God was reminding me of His sovereignty, gently pointing out that I was still trying to direct or hold on to certain parts of my life. I think it was a small tugging on my heart to evaluate my life, to surrender, to truly, completely submit to God's sovereignty. Unfortunately, the last year has been painful as I slowly learn to surrender and accept God's will. Ironically, this verse hit me again this summer, just like last summer. Apparently, the Lord is prompting me to submit even more. I am challenged by Job to accept God's sovereignty in the midst of suffering, to worship the Lord whether I am experiencing good or trouble.

"The Lord does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths." Psalm 135:6

Who understands?

A couple years ago I was reading through Proverbs and came across Proverbs 14:10 which says:

"Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy."

Up to that point in my life I had not experienced the trials which cause true anguish to one's soul. The older I grow, the more I experience life's difficult and painful times. I have seen painful and seemingly unfair sorrows burden my friends. I myself have been pained. As I try to comfort those around me and others try to comfort me I am struck with the reality of this verse. No matter how much effort a person extends one can never truly understand the pain of another heart. I have tried. I can imagine, I can place myself in the other person's shoes, I can hurt for them, but I can never know their sorrow and bitterness. There is no one who understands. No one except our Heavenly Father.

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord." Psalm 139: 1-4

God knows man better than he knows himself because God created man. God knows my thoughts and before I even speak He knows what I am going to say. He truly knows me, which means he fully understands my pain. He doesn't have to imagine or try to put Himself in my shoes. Who understands? God understands.

 "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts." Ps.139:23