Even if Creation is Uncreated

With three children somersaulting through my every second this summer, it has been difficult to get anything done, including my Bible study.  I almost always manage to get the "reading" part complete.  It's the "studying" part, the "basking in the silence" part that's jarringly interrupted by mommy's name being taken in vain for the thousandth time.

When my household is an off-key symphony of constant noise, that's when I crave the silence necessary to hear His still, small voice...when I understand best the words of Psalm 46 that command me to "Be still, and know that I am God" (v. 11).

In truth, I have needed to be still.  This space has sat untouched for the past two weeks with me unsure of what to say in a world both completely changed by a Supreme Court ruling yet not changed either.  For the past year, the news media and the entertainment industry have continued to loudly promote the extreme as the new normal while Christians around me have spoken more softly in tones of increasing hopelessness and fear.

On our weekly prayer walks the past two weeks, I've felt a country's anger pointed to me as a Christian.  Overnight, it seems, I have become the enemy of too many because of my faith.  When I feel the anger in their words, see the fire of disgust light their eyes, it would be so easy to give in to the fear, to let  hopelessness wash over me.

Only in His Word do I find a message of hope and security.  Psalm 46 speaks of God's creation in destructive turmoil against the backdrop of the unchanging, protective nature of God:

"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging. Selah
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts." (v. 1-6)

At the sound of God's voice, "the earth melts." Think of the power in that statement.

The God who spoke in Genesis 1 and the earth was created. The God who spoke in a burning bush to Moses, yet it was not consumed. That same God speaks here--and the earth melts. I looked it up, and the word means just what it sounds like--"to dissolve, to melt away."*

One commentary described it this way: "the creation itself may seem to be uncreated."

Creation's destruction is already underway.  The Center for Biological Diversity states, "Our planet is now in the midst of its sixth mass extinction of plants and animals...We’re currently experiencing the worst spate of species die-offs since the loss of the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. Although extinction is a natural phenomenon, it occurs at a natural 'background' rate of about one to five species per year. Scientists estimate we’re now losing species at 1,000 to 10,000 times the background rate, with literally dozens going extinct every day."  At this rate, the Center predicts "as many as 30 to 50 percent of all species possibly heading toward extinction by mid-century."

The scholarly journal Nature published a recent report that confirms this data while saying if we simply assume the future's "rate of extinction will be constant; it is currently estimated to range from 0.01% to 0.7% of all existing species a year."

Look around you; read the news and weather reports--do you sometimes feel as I do, that God is "un-creating" his very creation? Does your mind ever spin out of control in wonder and concern?

There. Is. Hope.

Verses 7 and 11 repeat the same words (and repetition is what this woman needed to finally hear it): "The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress."

Though the world around us tumbles, though it looks like creation is unraveling at the seams, though it looks like wars and turmoil will overtake the world....

Through it all, God wants to be our "fortress." God wants to be our "stronghold." God wants to be our "ever-present help."

But God isn't going to force Himself on anyone. We must choose to rest in Him if we want to experience that protection.  And to do that, we first must stop living like we've lost the war.  We must stop living each moment in a state of "what if" fear about what is to come.

Instead, we must prayerfully cast all our cares upon Him, knowing that He is not surprised in the least by what is happening around us and believing that He holds us--His children--in the loving, well-guarded palm of His hand.



* Baker and Carpenter. The Complete Word Study Dictionary: Old Testament. p. 579.

When I'm Not So Thankful

People are SO pushy this time of year. Seriously. Thanksgiving isn't quite here yet, but I've been "encouraged" all week by my pastor, the local radio station, a few salesladies, and the news media to count my blessings, to be thankful.

"Badgered" might be a better word than "encouraged." It's like in the months of November and December, Christian and non-Christian America alike is saying, "It doesn't matter if you're having problems with the mortgage or if your job is in peril or if all three of your children are crying because two of them peed down their only clean set of clothes and the third one dropped his banana in the dirt--if you're not feeling particularly thankful, it's your fault for not seeing the bigger picture in this season of thanks, so get with the program and be thankful already!"

But what do you do if your smile is fake? If, sure, you're thankful for a roof over your head, clothes in your closet, and food on the table...but truthfully? Your heart still focuses on the "don't have's," on the corrupt, evil people around you whose prosperity and happiness seem to flourish while you struggle daily in silence just to make ends meet?

What then?

I've been stuck on Psalm 73 for three weeks. Yes--three weeks. I've tried to get away from it, but David's words have stuck in my mind like play dough on the bottom of my children's shoes:

"Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. But as for me, my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold. For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked" (Ps. 73: 1-3).

These words grip me. This testimony could easily be mine when everything seems to be going wrong for me (and, as I'm convinced in those moments, only me).

Like David, I know that I know that God is good to those who are "pure in heart," but sometimes, my foot dangles over the cliff as I look into the darkness of sin flaunted openly by people I know...and without knowing it, my heart sparks green envy as I watch them live lives of ease while I seek righteousness yet struggle.

David continues, describing the "wonderful" life the sinful masses seem to lead:

"They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong. They are free from common human burdens; they are not plagued by human ills. Therefore pride is their necklace; they clothe themselves with violence. From their callous hearts comes iniquity; their evil imaginations have no limits. They scoff, and speak with malice; with arrogance they threaten oppression. Their mouths lay claim to heaven, and their tongues take possession of the earth. Therefore their people turn to them and drink up waters in abundance. They say, 'How would God know? Does the Most High know anything?' This is what the wicked are like—always free of care, they go on amassing wealth" (v. 4-12).

In those moments, this is what I envy--the ungodly who have no struggles weighing on their minds, who are chiseled visions of health and strength, whose overwhelming greed reaps enormous wealth, whose actions reap no consequences.

Their mouths speak God's name, post God's name, tweet God's name...they even quote Scripture when it's convenient. But in the next moment, their tongues lap up the fleshly fruits of the earth and feast off the sinful vices that bring worldly pleasure.

Upon seeing these people, David says, "Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure and have washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been afflicted, and every morning brings new punishments" (v. 13-14).

This is not a thought I've ever voiced, but like David, like Habakkuk, like Jeremiah--I've asked God why the righteous suffer while the wicked seem to go unchecked in their sin. And, if I'm honest, in the asking is a hint of envy at their ease.

When David enters God's sanctuary, though, he remembers who God is--a holy, righteous judge whose very nature requires Him to judge all sin. And in that moment, he says, "Surely you place them on slippery ground; you cast them down to ruin. How suddenly are they destroyed, completely swept away by terrors! They are like a dream when one awakes; when you arise, Lord, you will despise them as fantasies" (v. 18-20).

You may not feel thankful every second of this Thanksgiving week. I know my fleshly limitations, and I can promise you that I won't.

But when the grumbly feelings of unthankfulness threaten to consume you, when the green-eyed monster rears his head, when sin seems to go unchecked around you--remember, remember, remember…

Who. God. Is.

Pub. 11.02.10

Setting Your Internal GPS to the Right Destination

Last Thursday evening was one of those moments when I dipped low, frustrated with the struggles of this life that seem to persist.  No matter what I do, no matter what I pray, it is always the same short list.  Husband held me as I gave voice to those unspoken feelings of both sadness and anger I didn't realize was still within.

It has been almost eight years since one woman's choice to deceive and tell a single lie completely incinerated any plans we had framed up for a future.  A career, financial security, and husband's good name lay in the ashes that surrounded us, but back then, I still held out hope of justice in this lifetime, of us rebuilding something...somewhere else. 

Husband is always quick to rattle off a list of how far we have come in those eight years.  God has given us three children when we thought there would be none.  He has provided a house that we call home.  Our relationship with our extended family has grown closer.  And our faith walk with God has deepened to levels I never imagined possible.

Yet, in those darker moments, I can't see these mile markers.  All I can see is the same problems plaguing me year in and year out; in those times, they are like a dense wall of smoke, keeping me from seeing any progress.  Instead, I look down to see my feet cemented permanently in those ashes, unable to move as the world whizzes by around me.  And all I can think is "What if this is all there will ever be? If these struggles really never will cease?  If I must fight them until my dying breath?"

This basic need to see progress in our lives is important to surviving the strains of this life.

The good news is our heavenly Father knew this about us.  Through the pages of Scripture, He inspired men to remind us that no matter how stagnant our lives may seem, we're never standing still.  Instead, we are on a journey.  We are moving forward to that ending point in the distance even when we can't see any movement.

In the Psalms, David writes,

"Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
    they make it a place of springs;
    the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
They go from strength to strength,    till each appears before God in Zion" (Ps. 84:5-7).

In this passage, the speaker speaks of being "blessed" to be on a pilgrimage to Mt. Zion where he will meet with God in the temple.  The word "Blessed" in verse five is transliterated as "'esher," meaning "happiness."  The word "has the force of an interjection" or exclamation, implying an announcement of good news.*

In other words, the psalmist is exclaiming with much excitement and expectation that happiness in this life is found first when we "set [our hearts] on pilgrimage."  This means we must acknowledge what this life actually is--not a destination but a pilgrimage through temporary circumstances.

Secondly, the psalmist is telling us happiness is to be found in keeping our hearts focused on that destination.  This is where I falter, forgetting that my destination is not a new job, better financial security, retirement, children out of the house, etc.  The psalmist is clear--we pilgrims must recognize that God and God alone, enthroned, in Zion, our heavenly Jerusalem--He is our goal and destination. 

If we want to feel like we're merely spinning our wheels, all we must do is set our eyes on a different destination other than God in Zion.  The blessing, the happiness, the good news to be exclaimed in these verses is not here on this earth.  Yet, we are headed for Him who is our "good news" and our "happiness."  This is the same "good news" the angel proclaimed to Mary.  Jesus.

Paul used similar pilgrimage imagery in Hebrews, although because of his setting in the culture of the day, he utilized the metaphor of racing, encouraging his readers, "let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith" (Heb. 12:1-2).

As did the psalmist, Paul, too, says the key to this life is two-fold: (1) running the race (i.e., setting our hearts on pilgrimage) and (2) keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus.  Somehow, I wonder if Paul didn't also employ the racing imagery (versus the image of a pilgrim plodding down a sandy road) because he was showing how this side of the cross, we must live with anticipation that Christ may return at any second. 

This passage comes after the infamous "Hall of Faith" in Hebrews 11, wherein Paul lists one pilgrim after another who faithfully completed his or her pilgrimage to God.  While Christians typically look to those pilgrims as larger than life heroes, wonder men and women of God, Paul reminds us, "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth" (Heb. 11:13).  

These pillars of the faith likely had moments when they, too, wondered if they were making any progress towards that final destination.  At times, I'm sure they, too, focused their eyes on earthly destinations rather than the eternal one.

If we set our internal GPS to any destination other than God enthroned in a heavenly Zion, then yes, our lives may be stagnant and not making any progress.  Yet, if our hearts are set where they should be and if we embrace this life as what it is meant to be--a pilgrimage, a journey where we're just passing through--therein lies one of several keys to happiness in our circumstances.  

The journey is our destination, both focused on God alone.  

He is our peace.  He is our joy.  He is our happiness.  



*Word analysis from Strong's Concordance at Blueletterbible.org