All day long the injure my cause. All their thoughts are against me for evil. They stir up strife, they lurk, they watch my steps, as they have waited for my life. For their crime will they escape? In wrath cast down the peoples, O God!
You have kept count of my tossings, put my tears in a bottle. Are they not in Your book?
These verses are appropriate for a day of remembering a nation in distress. Who can forget the images, in real time, of planes sliding through the twin towers, creating fiery bombs that blew up Manhattan in ashy carnage? Barreled into the Pentagon. Crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. People jumping out of windows, crawling down smokey corridors, making one last cell phone call or running for their lives as the footings of the World Trade Center melted and collapsed. With our hands over our mouths and tears in our eyes, we cried out, "Dear God!"
And where was He? God? Could He not have stopped this? Over three thousand people were crushed, incinerated or buried alive. I don't know the theology of His allowing events stirred up by our enemies. It seems age-old, the battle between perceived good and perceived evil. What is clear, though, is our God doesn't stand apart from His people in these times. If we are crying, He is crying. The Bible even declares God writes our stories in a book. Keeps record of our lives. Much like parents keep a baby book, I guess, to record the events of their child's growing up. Your eyes saw my unformed substance. In Your book were written every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none. Psalm 139.
What of our grief now? Though our nation went after those who declared war on us, where is our personal comfort? Mine is in the promises of God for those who love Him. In Malachi, the prophet records the last words of God to be spoken until Christ came four hundred years later. Many had forgotten God. Turned and gone their own way. But those who loved and honored Him still had His ear. Then those who feared the Lord spoke with one another. The Lord paid attention and heard them, and a book of remembrance was written before Him of those who feared the Lord and esteemed His name. "They shall be Mine, says the Lord of hosts, in the day when I make up my treasured possession." God was listening in on their conversation and wrote about their faithfulness in a book to be opened at the end of time. A record of everything. Good and bad. Then I saw a great white throne and He Who was seated upon it. From His presence, earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. Revelation 20
I have tossed about in bed so many nights with prayers so deep they were almost groans. Cried for myself and those who were past crying for themselves. And on 9/11 we mourned like this as a nation because those lurking, watching our steps, and planning their attack succeeded in ravishing Manhattan, crushing the Pentagon and murdering passengers in Pennsylvania. Though we endeavored to exact revenge and applaud a bullet to Bin Laden's head, the ultimate Judge has written in His book a day of remembrance. A day He will one day judge. He was crying with us. Storing our tears. Writing our lives. Because one day they will be read to all. All wrongs put right. All midnight tossing ended. No more tears to bottle up.
On September 13, 2001, the workers found a cross lying in the smoldering mess of 9/11's aftermath. A reminder that He was there, amidst the suffering, lying in a heap of broken bodies and burning buildings. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace. And with His stripes we are healed. Isaiah 53
No wonder He bottles our tears. Sees our tossing. For He experienced death with us...and for us. So that, even in the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, for God is with us.
You have kept count of my tossings, put my tears in a bottle. Are they not in Your book?
These verses are appropriate for a day of remembering a nation in distress. Who can forget the images, in real time, of planes sliding through the twin towers, creating fiery bombs that blew up Manhattan in ashy carnage? Barreled into the Pentagon. Crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. People jumping out of windows, crawling down smokey corridors, making one last cell phone call or running for their lives as the footings of the World Trade Center melted and collapsed. With our hands over our mouths and tears in our eyes, we cried out, "Dear God!"
And where was He? God? Could He not have stopped this? Over three thousand people were crushed, incinerated or buried alive. I don't know the theology of His allowing events stirred up by our enemies. It seems age-old, the battle between perceived good and perceived evil. What is clear, though, is our God doesn't stand apart from His people in these times. If we are crying, He is crying. The Bible even declares God writes our stories in a book. Keeps record of our lives. Much like parents keep a baby book, I guess, to record the events of their child's growing up. Your eyes saw my unformed substance. In Your book were written every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none. Psalm 139.
What of our grief now? Though our nation went after those who declared war on us, where is our personal comfort? Mine is in the promises of God for those who love Him. In Malachi, the prophet records the last words of God to be spoken until Christ came four hundred years later. Many had forgotten God. Turned and gone their own way. But those who loved and honored Him still had His ear. Then those who feared the Lord spoke with one another. The Lord paid attention and heard them, and a book of remembrance was written before Him of those who feared the Lord and esteemed His name. "They shall be Mine, says the Lord of hosts, in the day when I make up my treasured possession." God was listening in on their conversation and wrote about their faithfulness in a book to be opened at the end of time. A record of everything. Good and bad. Then I saw a great white throne and He Who was seated upon it. From His presence, earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. Revelation 20
I have tossed about in bed so many nights with prayers so deep they were almost groans. Cried for myself and those who were past crying for themselves. And on 9/11 we mourned like this as a nation because those lurking, watching our steps, and planning their attack succeeded in ravishing Manhattan, crushing the Pentagon and murdering passengers in Pennsylvania. Though we endeavored to exact revenge and applaud a bullet to Bin Laden's head, the ultimate Judge has written in His book a day of remembrance. A day He will one day judge. He was crying with us. Storing our tears. Writing our lives. Because one day they will be read to all. All wrongs put right. All midnight tossing ended. No more tears to bottle up.
On September 13, 2001, the workers found a cross lying in the smoldering mess of 9/11's aftermath. A reminder that He was there, amidst the suffering, lying in a heap of broken bodies and burning buildings. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace. And with His stripes we are healed. Isaiah 53
No wonder He bottles our tears. Sees our tossing. For He experienced death with us...and for us. So that, even in the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, for God is with us.
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