Oh that You would slay the wicked, O God! O men of blood, depart from me! They speak against You with malicious intent. Your enemies take Your name in vain! Do I not hate those who hate You, Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against You? I hate them with complete hatred; I count them my enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way. (Verses 19-24) Italics, mine
The morning news these days is filled with beheadings, atrocities committed on women and children, mass killings of Christians, even the violent butchering of an Oklahoma woman doing her job in human resources on a normal day. There is evil in this world. A young college coed goes missing. A realtor murdered and buried in a shallow grave because she went to show a vacant home. Wickedness surprises us. Catches us off guard. And makes something rise up in us that cries for justice! David's plea here is our plea, too. We hate evil! We want those perpetrating it to be caught and brought to justice! The enemies of our God become our enemies. Evil running rampant is not His will for His earth.
But David takes it deeper. What if there's some evil in me? Something I'm doing that grieves God?Wow. That's a great question. We often don't know our own hearts. I had a dream last night. It was so vivid it awakened me. I was sitting on a bench with my daughter, Heather, when a young woman came to sit with us. Our perch was at the edge of a deep ravine with a few straggly trees growing unsteadily on the edge of the cliff it created. The woman had dark blond hair pulled loosely back in a long ponytail with strands of it falling into her pretty face. Her eyes were crystal blue and sad. As often happens to me in real life, the girl began telling me her story without my prompting her. How she was going to run away with a fifty-two year old man because her life was confusing and she was hurting. She was thirty-two. I know because I asked her.
"Is he good to you?" I asked.
"Well, most of the time," she responded, glancing away and looking at the rocky ground beneath our feet.
"Most of the time?" An alarm went off in me. "What does that mean?"
"Oh, sometimes he yells; sometimes he hits me." Tears sparkled in her eyes as she said this, daring to look into my eyes. "But..." And she shrugged her shoulders.
"You can't go away with him!" I was adamant. Preached, as I recall, a pretty good sermon about abuse. What abusers do. How this man followed the pattern. Watched as she deflated. This, her one hope of a future. And I am deconstructing it bit by bit.
She began to cry. Got up and walked over to the edge of the ravine and began climbing a tree while talking to the girls sitting under it. "No one was there for me," she's telling them. Nonchalant now. Not crying anymore. "Not one of my friends helped." The girls looked up at her, saying nothing, wondering, I knew in my dream, why she's telling them all this. Then the young woman jumped! Flew out of the tree. To her certain death.
My heart stopped. I hadn't even thought of her doing that! Heather looked at me as if to say, "Mom, I wish you hadn't stolen her hope." It wasn't judgment in the dream. It was the truth. I'd listened and given my opinion, but I'd not said a thing about Jesus. About His love. About how He is enough. I'd only told the desperate young woman what not to do. I had assisted in her suicide. AND I had grieved the Holy Spirit within me.
There was no beheading or violent murder. Just judgment in my heart. Deadly anyway. Surely this is what David meant. "Search me and know my heart." What's hidden there that's as repulsive to my Father as the evil so obvious in others. If God hates it, I want to hate it and eradicate it, too! Not just in others, but also in myself! For children of God, the standard is high. We deal with pride, judgment, greed, covetousness or subliminal idolatry that the world wouldn't necessarily observe or deem actual evil. But it still grieves God to see it there, possibly festering beneath the surface. O God, don't let me get away with anything that breaks Your heart! My prayer. Because I know I'm so imperfect. Prone to wander. Easily tricked by Satan. I need the Lord to monitor my heart and soul, wide open for Him to see.
I can't tell you in the moment when the girl jumped to her death, springing off the tree limb in one last hopeless gesture, how sick I felt. "No!" I screamed it! As she plunged into eternity, I cried. Knowing there is hope in Jesus. Knowing He would love her well. Never hurt her. Never abuse her. And I forgot to tell her. Was too busy waxing eloquent on what she needed to do. And when I awoke, I prayed in the real world for a heart free of condemnation, open to the heartache of others, overflowing with the Jesus she so desperately needed. O, Jesus, "Lead me in the everlasting way."
The morning news these days is filled with beheadings, atrocities committed on women and children, mass killings of Christians, even the violent butchering of an Oklahoma woman doing her job in human resources on a normal day. There is evil in this world. A young college coed goes missing. A realtor murdered and buried in a shallow grave because she went to show a vacant home. Wickedness surprises us. Catches us off guard. And makes something rise up in us that cries for justice! David's plea here is our plea, too. We hate evil! We want those perpetrating it to be caught and brought to justice! The enemies of our God become our enemies. Evil running rampant is not His will for His earth.
But David takes it deeper. What if there's some evil in me? Something I'm doing that grieves God?Wow. That's a great question. We often don't know our own hearts. I had a dream last night. It was so vivid it awakened me. I was sitting on a bench with my daughter, Heather, when a young woman came to sit with us. Our perch was at the edge of a deep ravine with a few straggly trees growing unsteadily on the edge of the cliff it created. The woman had dark blond hair pulled loosely back in a long ponytail with strands of it falling into her pretty face. Her eyes were crystal blue and sad. As often happens to me in real life, the girl began telling me her story without my prompting her. How she was going to run away with a fifty-two year old man because her life was confusing and she was hurting. She was thirty-two. I know because I asked her.
"Is he good to you?" I asked.
"Well, most of the time," she responded, glancing away and looking at the rocky ground beneath our feet.
"Most of the time?" An alarm went off in me. "What does that mean?"
"Oh, sometimes he yells; sometimes he hits me." Tears sparkled in her eyes as she said this, daring to look into my eyes. "But..." And she shrugged her shoulders.
"You can't go away with him!" I was adamant. Preached, as I recall, a pretty good sermon about abuse. What abusers do. How this man followed the pattern. Watched as she deflated. This, her one hope of a future. And I am deconstructing it bit by bit.
She began to cry. Got up and walked over to the edge of the ravine and began climbing a tree while talking to the girls sitting under it. "No one was there for me," she's telling them. Nonchalant now. Not crying anymore. "Not one of my friends helped." The girls looked up at her, saying nothing, wondering, I knew in my dream, why she's telling them all this. Then the young woman jumped! Flew out of the tree. To her certain death.
My heart stopped. I hadn't even thought of her doing that! Heather looked at me as if to say, "Mom, I wish you hadn't stolen her hope." It wasn't judgment in the dream. It was the truth. I'd listened and given my opinion, but I'd not said a thing about Jesus. About His love. About how He is enough. I'd only told the desperate young woman what not to do. I had assisted in her suicide. AND I had grieved the Holy Spirit within me.
There was no beheading or violent murder. Just judgment in my heart. Deadly anyway. Surely this is what David meant. "Search me and know my heart." What's hidden there that's as repulsive to my Father as the evil so obvious in others. If God hates it, I want to hate it and eradicate it, too! Not just in others, but also in myself! For children of God, the standard is high. We deal with pride, judgment, greed, covetousness or subliminal idolatry that the world wouldn't necessarily observe or deem actual evil. But it still grieves God to see it there, possibly festering beneath the surface. O God, don't let me get away with anything that breaks Your heart! My prayer. Because I know I'm so imperfect. Prone to wander. Easily tricked by Satan. I need the Lord to monitor my heart and soul, wide open for Him to see.
I can't tell you in the moment when the girl jumped to her death, springing off the tree limb in one last hopeless gesture, how sick I felt. "No!" I screamed it! As she plunged into eternity, I cried. Knowing there is hope in Jesus. Knowing He would love her well. Never hurt her. Never abuse her. And I forgot to tell her. Was too busy waxing eloquent on what she needed to do. And when I awoke, I prayed in the real world for a heart free of condemnation, open to the heartache of others, overflowing with the Jesus she so desperately needed. O, Jesus, "Lead me in the everlasting way."
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