Restore us again, O God of our salvation, and put away Your indignation toward us! Will You be angry with us forever? Will You prolong Your anger to all generations? Will you not revive us again, that Your people may rejoice in You? Show us Your steadfast love, O God, and grant us Your salvation. (Verses 4-7)
Revive. To restore to life or consciousness. Ew, boy. You are revived when you are out cold and need air in your lungs and oxygen to the brain. So, when we are spiritually dead, we need a good resuscitation. The logic of it is this. If our benevolent God is mad at us, we have done something/s wrong. We have moved away from what pleases Him and into what doesn't. God isn't indignant and angry because we are such great kids! That's hilarious! Our Father has a set of standards that are for His glory and our good. Like any sterling parent. How long has He put up with our rebellion to get to the point that it feels like He'll be angry forever? A looong time.
I received a call many years ago from a friend who is more like a sister to me. With terrible grief in her heart and with trembling voice, she told me of having to tell her teenage son to leave the house. Long battles over drugs and other addictive behavior had forced the issue. He was sleeping somewhere in his car. And she wasn't sleeping at all. But the boy left my friend and her husband no recourse but to remove him from their presence for a time. Scary as it was, the process led to the unloading of guilt and shame the son had thrown onto his back. Today he has his doctorate. Because God is gracious and my friends, wise.
I don't think that picture is far from what happens with us and God. Read the parable of the prodigal son. You can't need more reviving than he did, slopping the pigs and wishing for their food in his belly. In need of more than a good bath. A cleansing of heart and soul. An understanding of what the Father's heart has been all along. But there is the other brother in the story. Mad, mad, mad! Who does the brother think he is to come home and expect love and security. He took his inheritance and spent it in the worst way. Prostitutes, gambling and alcohol. Homeless, then, and smelling to high heaven when Dad sees him afar and runs to him. Can't get more co-dependent than that! No way is this older brother going to any party that has to do with the pariah "little brother" has become. Worked all these years for his own share of the inheritance! The Father never gave him a party! Not for being faithful. Guess you have to be bad before He notices you. And out spills the blackness of his self-righteous heart. "I'm the good one."
"All I have is yours,"says the Father. Actually, that is literally correct. He will inherit what is left because the younger brother took all of his when he wished his Father already dead and split. "You could've had a party with your friends any time!" Too busy working this darn farm! Me, me, me. "Rejoice with me that your brother was lost and is now found!" The Father is just so happy to see his kid alive and repentant!
Which child gets resuscitated? Only the one who knows he needs it. The older brother gets the rest of the farm. He deserves it. But the younger brother gets His Father. Is covered in kisses and clothed in clean linen. Never gets to give the speech he'd prepared as he trudged the miles of dusty roads back home: "Father, I have sinned against you and am no longer worthy to be called your son." Over and over again. Couldn't wait to get the words out of his mouth. To spill his guts. To fall on his face. "Make me as one of your hired hands." I just want to be home. The kid is filthy. Matted hair, dirty teeth and rancid clothing. But the Father threw his arms around him, kissed his pig-slopped face! Oh, revival!
When we know our need for God again! When we see that our plans lead to the sty. Or when our eyes are opened to the depths of darkness in which we live when we push God away because He isn't impressed with our self-righteousness. When we recognize that religion can't replace a relationship with the Father. We will never know the heart of our God until we see that ours are rebellious and empty without Him. Christians are having a hard time breathing these days. Caught up in the miasma of cultural pollution that mesmerizes our minds and compromises our beliefs. All the while, the Father waits. For His children to understand the depths of His love as it reaches out to the pew or the sty. Revive us again, dear Father! We are losing air.
Revive. To restore to life or consciousness. Ew, boy. You are revived when you are out cold and need air in your lungs and oxygen to the brain. So, when we are spiritually dead, we need a good resuscitation. The logic of it is this. If our benevolent God is mad at us, we have done something/s wrong. We have moved away from what pleases Him and into what doesn't. God isn't indignant and angry because we are such great kids! That's hilarious! Our Father has a set of standards that are for His glory and our good. Like any sterling parent. How long has He put up with our rebellion to get to the point that it feels like He'll be angry forever? A looong time.
I received a call many years ago from a friend who is more like a sister to me. With terrible grief in her heart and with trembling voice, she told me of having to tell her teenage son to leave the house. Long battles over drugs and other addictive behavior had forced the issue. He was sleeping somewhere in his car. And she wasn't sleeping at all. But the boy left my friend and her husband no recourse but to remove him from their presence for a time. Scary as it was, the process led to the unloading of guilt and shame the son had thrown onto his back. Today he has his doctorate. Because God is gracious and my friends, wise.
I don't think that picture is far from what happens with us and God. Read the parable of the prodigal son. You can't need more reviving than he did, slopping the pigs and wishing for their food in his belly. In need of more than a good bath. A cleansing of heart and soul. An understanding of what the Father's heart has been all along. But there is the other brother in the story. Mad, mad, mad! Who does the brother think he is to come home and expect love and security. He took his inheritance and spent it in the worst way. Prostitutes, gambling and alcohol. Homeless, then, and smelling to high heaven when Dad sees him afar and runs to him. Can't get more co-dependent than that! No way is this older brother going to any party that has to do with the pariah "little brother" has become. Worked all these years for his own share of the inheritance! The Father never gave him a party! Not for being faithful. Guess you have to be bad before He notices you. And out spills the blackness of his self-righteous heart. "I'm the good one."
"All I have is yours,"says the Father. Actually, that is literally correct. He will inherit what is left because the younger brother took all of his when he wished his Father already dead and split. "You could've had a party with your friends any time!" Too busy working this darn farm! Me, me, me. "Rejoice with me that your brother was lost and is now found!" The Father is just so happy to see his kid alive and repentant!
Which child gets resuscitated? Only the one who knows he needs it. The older brother gets the rest of the farm. He deserves it. But the younger brother gets His Father. Is covered in kisses and clothed in clean linen. Never gets to give the speech he'd prepared as he trudged the miles of dusty roads back home: "Father, I have sinned against you and am no longer worthy to be called your son." Over and over again. Couldn't wait to get the words out of his mouth. To spill his guts. To fall on his face. "Make me as one of your hired hands." I just want to be home. The kid is filthy. Matted hair, dirty teeth and rancid clothing. But the Father threw his arms around him, kissed his pig-slopped face! Oh, revival!
When we know our need for God again! When we see that our plans lead to the sty. Or when our eyes are opened to the depths of darkness in which we live when we push God away because He isn't impressed with our self-righteousness. When we recognize that religion can't replace a relationship with the Father. We will never know the heart of our God until we see that ours are rebellious and empty without Him. Christians are having a hard time breathing these days. Caught up in the miasma of cultural pollution that mesmerizes our minds and compromises our beliefs. All the while, the Father waits. For His children to understand the depths of His love as it reaches out to the pew or the sty. Revive us again, dear Father! We are losing air.
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