Lord, teach me what You want me to do, and I will live by Your truth. Teach me to respect You completely. Lord, my God, I will praise You with all my heart, and I will honor Your name forever. You have great love for me. You have saved me from death. (Verses 11-13)
On August 3, 1974, I held a little eight pound miracle in my arms. Heather. Rosy cheeked and ruby lipped, she didn't even cry. Simply looked around the operating room as if she'd been wondering for a while what the world outside the womb must be like. So this is it, huh? And so it began. The nursing and rocking, the cooing and pacing. Orienting our baby to life on Earth. Far from the place of perceived destiny when she was envisioned by her heavenly Father. What to do with her now? How to teach her what she needs to know to live well. A huge responsibility.
Fortunately I'd been a teacher. Middle school and high school. That gave me perspective. Mainly, I knew what I didn't want my children to be like. Behaviors I understood would damage them, cause them pain too early. Where to start? Where to start? "Don't touch!" Of course, she touched. Found out for herself what hot means. "Be still." Wriggling and toppling in response. "Put your books away." Heather still sat reading despite the imperative. I had to discipline her else she wouldn't understand right from wrong. I've had three children. Trust me, kids need to be taught the right thing. The students I've taught and interfaced with who don't know the kind and correct way to act toward others are miserable and very mistake prone. Always looking for a boundary. Because boundaries are safe. They mean someone cares that we don't cross a line, sees when we do, and rescues us from ourselves.
There was a train behind our home. It whistled and rumbled past several times a day. I often thought about a story I'd heard of a mother and her child who were walking near the tracks of a similar train one day when the toddler let loose of her mother's hand and ran toward the oncoming train. "Lie down!" screamed the mother, who wasn't fast enough to get to her child. "Lie down on the tracks!"
The child immediately complied. Safe in the cradle between the rails, she was saved from death because she obeyed. I thought of this story many times a day during the first years of being a mommy. It's important my kids understood first time obedience. For the little girl on the tracks, there would be no counting to three. No, "Young lady, you better do what I said!" Now was the only time the mother had. Maybe in Target it's not so important, but in bigger things, it just might be a matter of life and death. I have stopped the car on more occasions than my children want to remember to carry out the punishment I promised when I said, "If you don't obey right now, I will stop this car!"
So, what on earth does this have to do with Psalm 86? Everything. My rebirth in Christ has made me a child of God. Freshly minted and in dire need of instruction concerning how to live as a Christian. I can't count on watching everyone else. I need to learn God from God. He speaks. That's why we have a Bible. So I must learn what He wants as a new baby learns from her mother. At first, my Father does pretty much everything for me. Caresses and encourages me. Helps me walk. Picks me up when I trip along toward maturity in Him. But as I grow older in Christ, I am expected to know more and act like it. To respect my Father's authority. To comply with His heart instead of thumbing my nose at Him and doing what feels good or right to me. To trust He has my best interest and His glory in mind with each and every boundary He throws up. Because there just might be a train a-comin' that will crush me into a thousand pieces. so when my Father says, "Lie down!" I better lie down! (I haven't always...learned hot the hard way, too.)
There's the holding of His hand, too. The warmth of it in mine as my Father leads me along in love. He only disciplines me because of His great affection for this child of His. It is the Father's greatest joy to see me carry on His legacy of love, faith and self-control. To speak with me as a mature child, able to think as He does in the situations facing me on a daily basis. That I have caught what my Father has taught so that I am more and more acting and reacting as He would. I'm not perfect. Don't expect that. But with the sons of Korah, who wrote this psalm, I can say, "Teach me to respect You completely, because I praise You with all of my heart. You, my God and Father, have certainly saved me from death!"
On August 3, 1974, I held a little eight pound miracle in my arms. Heather. Rosy cheeked and ruby lipped, she didn't even cry. Simply looked around the operating room as if she'd been wondering for a while what the world outside the womb must be like. So this is it, huh? And so it began. The nursing and rocking, the cooing and pacing. Orienting our baby to life on Earth. Far from the place of perceived destiny when she was envisioned by her heavenly Father. What to do with her now? How to teach her what she needs to know to live well. A huge responsibility.
Fortunately I'd been a teacher. Middle school and high school. That gave me perspective. Mainly, I knew what I didn't want my children to be like. Behaviors I understood would damage them, cause them pain too early. Where to start? Where to start? "Don't touch!" Of course, she touched. Found out for herself what hot means. "Be still." Wriggling and toppling in response. "Put your books away." Heather still sat reading despite the imperative. I had to discipline her else she wouldn't understand right from wrong. I've had three children. Trust me, kids need to be taught the right thing. The students I've taught and interfaced with who don't know the kind and correct way to act toward others are miserable and very mistake prone. Always looking for a boundary. Because boundaries are safe. They mean someone cares that we don't cross a line, sees when we do, and rescues us from ourselves.
There was a train behind our home. It whistled and rumbled past several times a day. I often thought about a story I'd heard of a mother and her child who were walking near the tracks of a similar train one day when the toddler let loose of her mother's hand and ran toward the oncoming train. "Lie down!" screamed the mother, who wasn't fast enough to get to her child. "Lie down on the tracks!"
The child immediately complied. Safe in the cradle between the rails, she was saved from death because she obeyed. I thought of this story many times a day during the first years of being a mommy. It's important my kids understood first time obedience. For the little girl on the tracks, there would be no counting to three. No, "Young lady, you better do what I said!" Now was the only time the mother had. Maybe in Target it's not so important, but in bigger things, it just might be a matter of life and death. I have stopped the car on more occasions than my children want to remember to carry out the punishment I promised when I said, "If you don't obey right now, I will stop this car!"
So, what on earth does this have to do with Psalm 86? Everything. My rebirth in Christ has made me a child of God. Freshly minted and in dire need of instruction concerning how to live as a Christian. I can't count on watching everyone else. I need to learn God from God. He speaks. That's why we have a Bible. So I must learn what He wants as a new baby learns from her mother. At first, my Father does pretty much everything for me. Caresses and encourages me. Helps me walk. Picks me up when I trip along toward maturity in Him. But as I grow older in Christ, I am expected to know more and act like it. To respect my Father's authority. To comply with His heart instead of thumbing my nose at Him and doing what feels good or right to me. To trust He has my best interest and His glory in mind with each and every boundary He throws up. Because there just might be a train a-comin' that will crush me into a thousand pieces. so when my Father says, "Lie down!" I better lie down! (I haven't always...learned hot the hard way, too.)
There's the holding of His hand, too. The warmth of it in mine as my Father leads me along in love. He only disciplines me because of His great affection for this child of His. It is the Father's greatest joy to see me carry on His legacy of love, faith and self-control. To speak with me as a mature child, able to think as He does in the situations facing me on a daily basis. That I have caught what my Father has taught so that I am more and more acting and reacting as He would. I'm not perfect. Don't expect that. But with the sons of Korah, who wrote this psalm, I can say, "Teach me to respect You completely, because I praise You with all of my heart. You, my God and Father, have certainly saved me from death!"
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