You have dealt well with Your servant, O Lord, according to Your word. Teach me good judgment and knowledge, for I believe in Your commandments. Before I was afflicted, I went astray, but now I keep Your word. You are good and do good. Teach me Your statutes. The insolent smear me with lies, but with my whole heart I keep Your precepts. Their heart is unfeeling, like fat, but I delight in Your law. It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn Your statutes. The law of Your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces. (Verses 65-72)
I have heard it said that God is as gentle with us as we allow Him to be in dealing with our disobedience. He will wait and wait for us to straighten up before He stands mightily in our path and makes us behave. I know there are those who believe God set His commandments in place in order to punish us at every turn. And that's the way religion plays out. God is the malevolent, heavy-handed One Who ever lives to wield His golden switch and spank our behinds. Or worse. What I know from reading the scriptures God is my Father through Jesus Christ. Fathers who love their children will discipline them. Not for the joy of beating their kids, but for the joy of having children who live controlled and purposeful lives. After having taught school for several years and working with other peoples' children, I know which ones have been carefully taught and lovingly disciplined and the ones who've been allowed their own way. The undisciplined are miserable and make those around them miserable, too.
This is one of those passages I underlined in my after I'd gone astray days. Our family packed up for the beach, the sandwiches, chips, fruit, cookies and drinks into the back of the van with the boogie boards and towels. It was very hot inland, where we lived at the time, and all the other families from Riverside and beyond must've decided to go to the beach that day, too, because traffic was awful on a Saturday. Finding parking off Pacific Coast Highway was our next challenge. But we finally settled onto the sand with the beach chairs upright and the towels beckoning us to lie down and tan. Will was six or seven then. Went down to the waves to race with the surf and got lost. I could still see him, so I didn't know he was panicking. There were many people between us, but he wasn't really lost. He only felt lost. I saw him turning in circles. Looking for his family. Then he started crying. It was then I understood he needed help. He'd gone astray and was scared. "Will!" I yelled. "Over here!" I stood up so my son could see me. My boy ran over so fast he nearly knocked me down. "I thought I'd lost you," he said through his tears. "I hadn't lost you, baby," I said. "I could see you." Will stayed very close the rest of the day. Before he knew what it was like to be away from me, he wasn't worried about how far out he got. You get the picture.
God won't let us get so far away that we completely lose Him, but if we are stubborn enough to keep on keeping on, He'll step in and be as gentle as we let Him in His effort to get us back into relationship. While I was out there straying, what was very clear, and what I see with even more clarity now, is no one really cares for me like Jesus does. My heart was captive to those whose hearts had about as much feeling as a blob of fat. The Bible is surprising in its imagery sometimes. I traded the warmth and joy of my relationship with my Father for a can of Crisco or a side of bacon (although I have friends who love bacon so much it could be a hard choice!) Why would the One Who loves me, died so that I could be in eternal relationship with Him, allow me to continually pursue lard? And, of course, once again the comparison is between hearts. My whole heart belongs to God; their hearts are unfeeling, fat with their own over-indulging. My heart is only safe with Jesus. The straying only made that more obvious. Made me want more than ever to stay close. To listen to what He says. Cherish the safety of the parameters my God sets because without them, I am without proximity to Him. I can't buy that. It's priceless.
I have heard it said that God is as gentle with us as we allow Him to be in dealing with our disobedience. He will wait and wait for us to straighten up before He stands mightily in our path and makes us behave. I know there are those who believe God set His commandments in place in order to punish us at every turn. And that's the way religion plays out. God is the malevolent, heavy-handed One Who ever lives to wield His golden switch and spank our behinds. Or worse. What I know from reading the scriptures God is my Father through Jesus Christ. Fathers who love their children will discipline them. Not for the joy of beating their kids, but for the joy of having children who live controlled and purposeful lives. After having taught school for several years and working with other peoples' children, I know which ones have been carefully taught and lovingly disciplined and the ones who've been allowed their own way. The undisciplined are miserable and make those around them miserable, too.
This is one of those passages I underlined in my after I'd gone astray days. Our family packed up for the beach, the sandwiches, chips, fruit, cookies and drinks into the back of the van with the boogie boards and towels. It was very hot inland, where we lived at the time, and all the other families from Riverside and beyond must've decided to go to the beach that day, too, because traffic was awful on a Saturday. Finding parking off Pacific Coast Highway was our next challenge. But we finally settled onto the sand with the beach chairs upright and the towels beckoning us to lie down and tan. Will was six or seven then. Went down to the waves to race with the surf and got lost. I could still see him, so I didn't know he was panicking. There were many people between us, but he wasn't really lost. He only felt lost. I saw him turning in circles. Looking for his family. Then he started crying. It was then I understood he needed help. He'd gone astray and was scared. "Will!" I yelled. "Over here!" I stood up so my son could see me. My boy ran over so fast he nearly knocked me down. "I thought I'd lost you," he said through his tears. "I hadn't lost you, baby," I said. "I could see you." Will stayed very close the rest of the day. Before he knew what it was like to be away from me, he wasn't worried about how far out he got. You get the picture.
God won't let us get so far away that we completely lose Him, but if we are stubborn enough to keep on keeping on, He'll step in and be as gentle as we let Him in His effort to get us back into relationship. While I was out there straying, what was very clear, and what I see with even more clarity now, is no one really cares for me like Jesus does. My heart was captive to those whose hearts had about as much feeling as a blob of fat. The Bible is surprising in its imagery sometimes. I traded the warmth and joy of my relationship with my Father for a can of Crisco or a side of bacon (although I have friends who love bacon so much it could be a hard choice!) Why would the One Who loves me, died so that I could be in eternal relationship with Him, allow me to continually pursue lard? And, of course, once again the comparison is between hearts. My whole heart belongs to God; their hearts are unfeeling, fat with their own over-indulging. My heart is only safe with Jesus. The straying only made that more obvious. Made me want more than ever to stay close. To listen to what He says. Cherish the safety of the parameters my God sets because without them, I am without proximity to Him. I can't buy that. It's priceless.
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