PSALM 91 - Angels and Shiny Objects

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place--the Most High, Who is my refuge--no evil shall befall you, no plague come near your tent. For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the adder. The young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.  (Verses 11-13)

My son, do not lose sight of these--keep sound wisdom and discretion, and they will be life for your soul and an adornment around your neck. Then you will walk on your way securely, and your foot will not stumble. If you lie down, you will not be afraid. When you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. Do not be afraid of the sudden terror or of the ruin of the wicked when it comes. For the Lord will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught.
Proverbs 3

Our son, Will, bought a big house a couple of years ago. Though it was a bank-owned sale, which usually means it would be pretty trashed inside, it was in great shape and only recently built. Will made a few improvements, like flooring and appliances, and the home was beautiful. The surprising thing to many is that it still is beautiful. Will is a stellar homeowner. Though he has rented out three of his four bedrooms to his friends, my boy still keeps the house clean and the lawn manicured. I was humbled the other night when one of his friends was bragging in my presence that our son, also the young man's landlord, was such a clean homeowner. "Yeah," said Will, "I turned into my mom when I bought this house."  We all laughed, but the truth of the matter made my eyes burn with quick tears. Living in our home all those years made our son like us. He mirrors what he learned, at least about housekeeping, at home.

Maybe that's why dwelling in the Lord is so important. Living with Him, we become like Him. Talking with the Lord, listening to Him, we get into His mind. Understand what's important to Him. If we are ever going to gain wisdom and discretion, it will be under his tutelage. How is it possible to lose our way when we are looking to our God for direction? If we never veer far from the shadow of His wing? The reason we don't need to fear the enemy--the wicked of this generation--is because we live in the house of the One Who wins. It's that simple. Who has already won. Before time.

Our problem, being the dusty beings we are, is that we can be lured away from the heart of God by the old adder himself--Satan. In his efforts to destroy us, he likes to take us to places he rules. Usually these little jaunts seem fun, even innocuous, at first. We follow the shiny object. There is a story of natives in the jungle who captured monkeys using this technique. The men built cages with bars just far enough apart the monkey could reach its hand into it. At the bottom of the cage the natives placed a shiny rock. The unsuspecting monkey, curious about the lovely thing glistening in the sunlight, would reach in and grab the rock. Of course, the monkey couldn't retrieve its fist back through the bars. But it wouldn't let go of the shiny object. It wasn't trapped on the inside, but on the outside of the cage, simply because it wouldn't let go of the perceived treasure so tightly clenched in its fist. A little wisdom. A little discretion. These the monkey could use to understand the whole thing was a trap in the first place. The silly little animal wouldn't have walked right into the trap. But, for goodness sake, let the shiny object go when you know you've been fooled!

In order to keep our feet from stumbling, we must dwell in the Lord. We have the promise above because we have made the Lord our dwelling place. We aren't wondering about the blackboard jungle of life looking for kicks. The promise for safety doesn't cover our promiscuity--our going after idols or shiny objects. The promise is secured to the place: in God. In Him is wisdom and discretion. And when the enemy comes or when God decides to deal with evil, we are in a safe house. When we venture out on our path, it is with His direction and protection. When the enemy throws up roadblocks, tries to trip us up, we have angels at the ready to catch us. To keep us from falling--for the lies of the enemy, for the traps of the devil, for addictions, attachments, and idols. Because? We have God's ways in our heads. When the hard times come, and they will, we can say to the enemy: No weapon formed against me shall prosper! Tramp on his lies. Push back on the old lion who goes about roaring and looking for someone to devour. His teeth were all removed at Calvary. His head stomped on three days later.

So when suddenly the world falls apart--ours or the bigger one--we are safely harbored. Now and forever. For as long as our Father has planned for us to be here on planet Earth, He has promised to take care of those of us who allow Him to dwell in us. Angels stand ready to save us. To fight the enemy on our behalf. That is how intimately acquainted the Father is with our way. How fierce He is with any who would hurt us, His children, nestled against the warmth of His feathers and listening to His heartbeat.

PSALM 91 - The Father And Feathers

For He will deliver you from the snare of the trapper and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His pinions and under His wings you will find refuge. His faithfulness is a shield and buckler. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor the destruction that wastes at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only look with your eyes and see the recompense of the wicked.   (Verses 3-8)

The times, they are a-changing. There are wars and rumors of wars. There is famine and pestilence world-wide. Earthquakes and tsunamis ravage continents killing thousands at a time. Poverty and prosperity dangle from the same rope as nations all over the globe protest the inequality of life on the planet. Age-old battles are being played out on a larger scale in the Middle East. Bloody wars are creeping from one country to the next like a deadly plague. And if our Bible is true, and it is, we are heading toward the end times for our earth. What is our hope as Christians? It is the same hope the children of Israel had during the plagues in Egypt. The blood on the doorpost.

I know there are some Christians reading this who will say, "He didn't keep me from disease. How can I trust this promise?" Because we live in a fallen world, and because our bodies die, we know this isn't an eternal promise. Verse 8 is the crux of what the psalmist is saying. God will keep His kids safe in the times of recompense for evil. Covered in the blood of Jesus--on the doorposts of our hearts--we will look with our eyes upon His judgment. So we are not supposed to fear when we see the world falling apart. Instead, we are to see His hand catch the arrows flying our way, stopping them in midair. Terrifying nights may be coming, but we won't fear them because we understand what's happening. Jesus said, "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says" (Revelation). In other words, understand your times so you won't be caught off-guard.

Our Father tucks us into bed at night saying, "Don't be afraid. I'm right here." So when we hear the noise of conflict or sense the creeping doom in the dark, our first response is to know we are protected. Covered by the His flight feathers as they grab us from the danger and draw us to His chest. Harbored safely against His heart as our Father's entire wing presses us in close. And when we see destruction all around, bombs going off, detonating and destroying life as we know it, we will not fear. It is prescient. In those times, we will be free from fear because we understand that God is destroying evil. But even more importantly, we know we are loved by our Father. We will count on His faithfulness to be our shield and buckler. Didn't know what a buckler was until I looked it up today. It's a small shield usually held in the left hand when a small sword is used. It's for hand-to-hand combat. The sword for heavier battle. The picture then, is that our Father is going to be fighting big and small battles for us in these days. Worldwide we will see the scythe of justice swipe the chaff. Personally, we can count on the Lord to narrow the victory down to our everyday fight with evil.

Things fall apart. Only He lasts forever--the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega. And Jesus has come to give us eternal life with Him. Children of the Most High God, beloved of the Father, joint heirs with Christ, covered in the Passover blood that is precious to the eye of the Lord even when the heavens and the earth pass away. It is our mark, declaring us to be chicks for the gathering. Though a thousand fall at our side and ten thousand at our right hand, we are warriors declared by our God to be victors even before the great battle. Dressed in the full armor of God--helmet of salvation, breastplate of righteousness (His), the belt of Truth, the shoes of the gospel of peace, holding the sword of the Spirit (the Word of God) and the shield of faith--we are equipped for the days ahead. Our clothing for the day already purchased. Our lives already saved. Perfectly loved by a flawless Father, we can face today and tomorrow unafraid of the snare of the enemy who would trap us, for we know he's been defeated, his head destroyed beneath the heel of the One Who will get us safely through.
 

PSALM 91 - Where I Live

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, "My refuge and my fortress, my God, in Whom I trust." (Verses 1-2)

Behold, a king will reign in righteousness and princes will rule in justice. Each will be like a hiding place from the wind, a shelter from the storm, like streams of water in a dry place, like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.  Isaiah 32

As we drove up to the Wendy's in Wichita Falls on Terrible Tuesday, April 10, 1979, we heard the tornado sirens blare and watched the dark greenish clouds form wispy circles that began to reach down like the tentacles of an airborne monster trying to snare us in their grasp. "Take shelter!" screamed the teenager at the drive-thru window. "Come inside now!"

Last week the tornadoes that hit Oklahoma City came with a twenty minute warning. Plenty of time to get to safety. However, the fear created by the devastation left in the wake of the Moore tornado only days before gave some people the idea that they could outrun the twister and get to safety. Twenty minutes and they'd be down the 35 or up the 40. Out of the path of the massive storm cell that dropped grapefruit-sized hail on the highly populated Midwest city. Only problem was, it was rush hour and many other people had the same idea. The tornadoes were wrapped in rain. It looked to many on their way home from work on a Friday evening like a normal spring storm packing gobs of precipitation. Not a tornado spawning weather system they should fear. Until the sirens wailed. The highways were clogged. Escape routes jammed. And now those who tried to flee were more vulnerable than ever to the monster's swirling breath. Three storm chasers were outsmarted and killed. Most of the dead were on the roads when, like Matchbox cars in the hands of a three-year-old, their vehicles were picked up and thrown back down.Those safely in their shelters survived.

 After the tornado wiped out the whole south side of Wichita Falls, many people rebuilt their homes with shelters. Never wanting to go through another season with fear sitting on the top of their stomachs every time they felt a raindrop on their noses. Not wanting their hearts to seize up when spring produced a cloud bank heavy with rain coming their way across the blue Texas sky.

Shelter. The word is calming. Like an oak tree in the heat of summer or a gazebo in a rain storm. Like a trench in the heat of battle or a mother's arms in times of distress. It's where we go to be safe. For we who know the Father, it is His shelter we seek. Only we aren't supposed to run for it only when times are bad. We are supposed to live in that shelter. Because times are dangerous. And not just to our physical well-being, but also for our hearts. What does it look like, this living in the shelter God provides? I live in my house in Huntington Beach. That means I abide here on a daily basis. It's where I eat, sleep, work out, write, pray, clean. It's where I stay. Especially when times are turbulent, when the vortex of life tries to suck me up into its mess.

An open Bible was found in the aftermath of the destruction in Moore, Oklahoma. It was opened to the verse above from Isaiah 32. That's a Messianic verse. The king referred to is Jesus. He is a place to hide from the wind, a shelter from the storm, a stream in a dry place and a Rock Who gives us shade in a dry and weary land. A reminder that He is our refuge. In Him is where we should live--stay. No running for the hills to get away from the monster chasing us. Instead, looking out the window as it passes by. Like a kid watching a storm on a rainy summer day through the plate glass window in the den. She sees the hail and hears the wind as it knocks against the house. But she is safe where she lives.

How big must the shadow of the Almighty be? If I'm living in Him, I'm pretty sure He's so huge I won't even be able to see the edges of the shadow He casts across the perimeters of my life. The eaves of the shelter throwing protective dimness for eternal miles on every side. Like playing in the yard, I'm still at home. Or like a kid, scared of the neighborhood dog, runs to his nearby dad and grasps the man's strong legs for protection. Never far from the Father's reach. Never out of His sight. If we are in the shadow, we're still safe.

I remember one night at dinner when Will was choking on a piece of hot dog stuck in his throat. The family was in the middle of its usual lively conversation when it happened, so it took a minute for me to notice Will's horrified face. Immediately, I pushed the food on down his throat. He cried then. Scared and thankful. At least ten times before I put him to bed that night he thanked me for saving his life. Thanked me that I noticed his distress in time to rescue him. Multiplied a thousand times is my heart when I look at the Father Who has saved me over and over again from within the shadow of His presence. Like the psalmist, I declare: "You are my refuge, my fortress, my God. I will trust in You!"

Those of us who have been out on the highway trying to outrun the storm with the dire consequences of being instead vacuumed up into the maelstrom understand the wisdom of living with God. Not wandering far off, especially in the storm. Not letting fear drive us away from the only possible protection into the traffic jam that is this world. Sitting ducks for the enemy to ravage and destroy. Better to be watching the cyclone from the other side of the window in our Father's house.

The name of the Lord is a strong tower. The righteous person runs into it and is safe.
Proverbs 18:10


 

PSALM 90 - Life Is A Numbers Game

So teach us to number our days so that we may get a heart of wisdom.  (Verse 12)

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, Who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith.  James 1

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.  James 3

Or, in other words, what's the point of living our lives if we live them stupidly. We have just so many years, months, weeks, days and minutes on planet Earth. So what are we going to do with them? Waste them? My hand is up as one who would take back several years if not days and weeks of time I've spent being unwise. At least it taught me that I'm not going to throw any more precious time down the toilet of temptation. I've learned, the hard way, where that swirling water leads. And it's smelly.

The point of our lives should be to get a heart of wisdom. Moses is remembering the bad old days in the desert when he speaks this prayer. The stupidity of the golden calf, the whining over the bad food, the grumbling about every possible thing that happened to the people in the desert. Of course, the very things that kept them in the desert! Had the first massive group of refugees from Egypt been wiser, Moses wouldn't just be looking over into a land he'd never visit. He'd be eating some of those huge grapes! But the people thought they'd be in the desert forever. Didn't trust God had a plan bigger than they could ever imagine. In the moment, out there in the wilderness with their iffy leader who kept disappearing up the mountain, all they could think was they'd be in the desert forever. Not just a season. It was stinking thinking that led to them getting just what they believed God for. It made them sin against the very One Who wanted health, wealth and prosperity for them. And it was right around the corner. In the process, God was teaching them how to wake up each day trusting His leading and fall asleep each night knowing He is good. That would be an important piece of wisdom when they had it all in the future. Not to forget how He'd provided for them out of nothing.

Instead of the whining and bitching, maybe we should shut our mouths and get wisdom! How you ask? That's right. Ask. It is one of the things God is most excited about giving us. He knows we can't go far down our path being stupid. And by stupid, I mean, trusting ourselves to know what only He can know. Like Pinocchio, finding ourselves at the fair because it sounds so fun then realizing the treachery of following after hedonism. Filling our vacuous souls to the brim with vaporous pleasure. All the while the meat of faith that sticks to our spiritual bones and grows us up is passed by because we just want to do our own thing. And we have that God-given privilege. But it's unwise. The pot saying to the potter: "Bug off. I don't want to be involved in what I was created for." Okay. But what a waste of days, months, years. To be going down the wrong road as fast as we can run.

Maybe wisdom sounds boring to some. It is first of all pure. Right there we have a problem, because we aren't pure. This is the thing we must love about our God. The very first thing we need to gain wisdom is something He provided in His Son. Our purity. For our sake He made Him to be sin Who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 6). The miracle of our purity also reveals to us, through the Holy Spirit, the mind of Christ (For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct Him? But we have the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2). We can think like God. Renew our minds. See Him leading us down the road He custom built for each one of us. That is a thrilling thought! God can grant me wisdom to see my way. A way He takes my hand and walks me down. Back to being a child of Israel in the desert when God provides every little and big thing we need only this time tabernacling in us. No Moses needed. God Himself, by the Holy Spirit, our GPS. If we'd stop complaining and whining, we'd get there so much faster. And we'd enjoy the journey more. Because gaining wisdom is also about the journey. The fruit of wisdom isn't gained simply by the getting there. That's the payoff. Starting with the purifying of our lives, we learn to be peaceable, gentle and open to reason. Not always having to be right...especially in our arguments with God. (Admit it. You argue with God.) Life in Christ teaches us mercy because we know we continue to need His. And when we understand all the stuff we're capable of, it should be easier to be impartial and sincere. There's no self-righteousness in wisdom. (See above on how you got pure in the first place.)

Moses ends this prayer like this: Satisfy us in the morning with Your steadfast love that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as You have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. Let Your work be shown to Your servants and Your glorious power to their children. Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!

The fruit of wisdom! We are right smack dab in the middle of His best for us! The work of our hands is blessed. There is favor and we are humble. Because we learned in the journey that God's love and mercies are new every morning. A morning that may be the dawn of the only day we have left. Embrace it. Rejoice and be glad in it and all the days that our Father gives thereafter. For the journey is as important as the destination because it is there we gain a heart of wisdom without which the promised land becomes a land of forgetfulness.




 

PSALM 90 - A Roach In The Light

You have set our iniquities before You, our secret sins in the light of Your presence. (Verse 8)

Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful to even speak of the things they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Ephesians 5

Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. Isaiah 60

I awoke to see it crawling on the wall beside my bed. I screamed into the dark like one about to be murdered. Malda, my roommate, had turned on the light at our dresser in the dorm room to get ready for her early class at the University of Texas at Austin, exposing the enemy. The brightness of the 60 watt bulb made the thing scurry to hide again beneath my bed. The roach. Two inches long with little feelers moving like crazy, trying to sense danger. Blinded only briefly, caught in the act of foraging our room for leftover dinner...or whatever they eat to grow so enormous in Texas. Foiled by the light. I let Malda kill him. She, much braver than I. He left a huge gut wash on the wall. That was mine to deal with. Served him right. He should've stayed in the dark. I had no idea the roach was under my bed all this time.

Things done in the dark. Where we think no one sees. Like the boss who finally took his employee to bed one night while her husband was away. Both knew it was wrong, but she could lose her job if she didn't comply. The economy is tough. She couldn't afford to try again for another six months to find other work. He? Forgot himself in the moment. An elder at the local church. A pillar of the community. Good wife. A couple of kids. Who would know? The two of them certainly wouldn't tell. Only thing is, the woman became pregnant. With this guy's kid. What to do...what to do. Her husband would know it's not his. The boss couldn't afford the bad press. Abortion. The only answer. Again. No one would know. But she didn't want one. Would keep the baby. So what of the husband? The boss paid a low life to cause a wreck, force the husband's car off the road. He died instantly. An awful accident. Such a tragedy. He would've messed everything up. The woman went on to have the child. Everyone thought it was her dead husband's and rejoiced that she now had his baby as a remembrance. Whew! All fixed.

Months passed. The boss went on with life, but there was this thing that always sat on his stomach. A secret weighing heavily, a thing he didn't look at unless awakened suddenly in the night. He is a Christian. So he says. The thing just got out of control. Until one day his pastor made a visit to the man's office. "One of our congregation is going through a pretty rough patch," the pastor began. "I wanted your take on what we should do since you are an elder in our church."

"What happened?" asked the boss.

"A prominent member of our church has been involved in an adulterous relationship. The woman is pregnant. Her husband dead." The pastor waited. Breathless.

"Who is it?" asked the boss, feigning indignation.

"You."

The boss fell to his knees in surprise and fear. Light. Brilliant light on this things done in the dark.

The rest of the story is obvious. It's King David's story replayed a thousand thousand times since Bathsheba. Oh, that David had confessed at the outset. Not compounded darkness on darkness. Fallen asleep over his own sin. Glossed over it thinking, deadly wrong, that no one would ever know. God's response to David: "Behold, I will raise up evil against you in your own house. And I will take your wives before your eyes and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of the sun. For you did it secretly, but I will do this thing before all Israel and before the sun"(2 Samuel 12). The sun shining on his secret sin! Ouch. Hey, everyone, look what David did! The roach exposed. God forgave his sin, but exacted punishment because the king's deed "utterly scorned the Lord."

Both stories would've played out differently if the thing done in the dark had been immediately confessed. Terrible as it was, the ramifications wouldn't have been so dire. Exposed to light by the perps instead of waiting for God to do it for them. The longer we wait, holding onto our secret addictions, relationships or habits, the harder to confess and the worse when they are discovered.

My father lived a double life until his arrest in 1985. The ramifications of his homosexual pedophilia were horrendous. A church deacon. A trusted father. All blown to smithereens with a call from jail. Just wondered over the years if my father had reached for help, shameful as his secret was, would things have turned out differently. Maybe he wouldn't have lost his reputation and his family. Certainly many children wouldn't have been so wounded. Shame keeps the cycle going. Light on shame is a blessing. Repenting before the light is the sun, brings healing. Stops shame in its tracks. No more stacking of garbage on garbage. A deep sighing, even if payment is jail, that the treadmill has ceased. No longer captive to the dark. Oh, to confess our secret sins to God while they are still a secret to everyone but Him. He always knows. Children of God can expect the sun to shine on what they do because we are children of the light. Progeny of the One in Whom there is no darkness at all.

Jesus is the Light of the world. He came to brighten it up. A floodlight on our dorm wall--our interior lives. Dare we look? Have we fallen asleep to our sin thinking: "Aaaa...no one has to know about this."? Awake, O sleeper. Arise, shine! Empty the garbage. Clean out the vessel. Walk in the light. We don't have to creep around as roaches in the dark!In fact, be as merciless with sin as Malda was with the roach! Kill it! We who are supposed to shine like stars!

...be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life.  Philippians 2

 

PSALM 90 - Life Is A Lot Like That

You sweep them away as with a flood. They are like a dream, like grass that is renewed in the morning: in the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers.
(Verses 5-6)

Our lives are like floods, dreams and grasses. I'd like to take those one at a time. Remember it's Moses writing this psalm. He has a new group to take to the border of the Promised Land. He is not allowed to enter, though. Moses took on God's anger and disobeyed Him when he struck the rock in the wilderness instead of speaking to it as he was instructed (Numbers 20). After all the years of struggle with a "stiff-necked and stubborn" people, Moses is left out. He was eighty when God met him at the burning bush and commissioned him to free the Jews from Egypt. For forty more years the prophet walked around and around in the desert, waiting for a generation of griping, sinful people to die off. God got them out of Egypt but couldn't get Egypt out of them. Their children and grandchildren, who had no memory of the good ole days of slavery, were now ready to take all God had planned. So at the ripe old age of 120, Moses looks back at life--lives.

The flood. Moses watched as God's hand took several thousand people out at one time. Came in like a torrent flowing through a canyon and passed swift judgment on the fornicating, drunken and blaspheming nation as it built a golden calf out of the jewelry they took from Egypt. This, while Moses is up on a holy mountain receiving the law from God. The Israelites thought Moses died up there. It'd been over a month and they hadn't heard hide nor hair from him. Let's make up our own god! Why did that sound like such a good idea? Because their hearts were still trapped in Egypt. Many were born there and missed the food and their former culture. And, they were stuck in the desert. When Moses came down from the Mount Sinai, glowing from the presence of God, what he saw was an NC-17 scene playing out in the sand and a shining golden calf glistening in the sun. Furious, Moses broke the tablets. Broke the law...as they were. God was, of course, even more outraged by this people He loved enough to rescue from slavery. Whoosh. A flood of deaths to remind them of His holiness. Suddenly a plague overtook those who had made the golden calf and worshipped it. God might've destroyed them all, but Moses reminded Him of His promises.

The dream. I had one last night. It was so real I awakened from it with a sense it had actually taken place. Wide-eyed, I had trouble going back to sleep. But the dream came and went. A phantom of the night. Leaving its trace in my mind, but evaporating in the dark of my room. I'm sure as Moses stood on Mount Nebo and thought of all that he'd been through, it seemed to have gone by so quickly. Here they were, ready to go over into their dream land. He'd taken them through the nightmare, and all he could do was bask in one long glance at the green trees and lush fruits of his labors without touching them. Maybe he took a deep breath and thought, like I have lately, that it all went by so fast. Life, like a dream, that's left its aura on your soul and then is gone. Will the vapor that is me leave a mark to be remembered, or will I fade quickly into the background like my dream last night?

The grass. Renewed each morning by dew. Our youth is spent in growing, our strength encouraged by the water and sun pouring power into our heart and limbs. We get better. Wiser. Moses must've remembered his relative youthfulness when they all started out. The vigor with which he trusted his God to miraculously deliver His people. The energy to organize and drive a crowd of over a million people toward Cana. As the years passed, the weariness set in. The same old problems with the same old crowd. And, Moses was getting older. Evening was casting its shadow over his life. The dew wasn't quite as able to quench his thirst. Withering set in. Life was fading naturally into death.

Since we will go away someday, somehow, maybe it's the now we should involve ourselves in. Looking back to Egypt, that slavery we were caught up in and remember as being such a kick, might just sweep us away in a flood of misery and death. If life evaporates like a dream, with Moses, I want to do the thing God wants today. Leave a fragrance where I've been like the perfume of a woman stays on your clothes when she has walked away. That there is a trace of me that lingers for God's glory. If we are allowed to journey into dusk, fading and withering, our years are still few. But there are generations behind us who need to know in our twilight what our greener years were like. How God was faithful to us. How He loves us. Through the good and bad. So that no matter how they travel through, they end up rejoicing in heaven before a holy God. Now is the only day I'm promised. These hours are important in my short span.

 Lord, I want to seize today for You, not dwelling on the past nor fearing the future. Hold my hand because I want to go where You are going every minute of every day!

 

PSALM 90 - Aching With The Young Widow On Memorial Day

Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting, You are God. You return man to dust and say, "Return, O children of man!" For a thousand years in Your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night. (Verses 1-4)

Man who is born of woman is few of days and full of trouble. He comes out like a flower and withers; he flees like a shadow and continues not.   Job 14

There is an older house on Orange Street in Huntington Beach where we live. Surrounding its wooden frame on every side are rows of grandiflora roses that perfume the air and assault the eyes with color and form that makes us stop each time we walk by them just to breathe in the scent and marvel at their beauty. Some of the roses are huge, so heavy they tilt out into the sidewalk. Others stand straight and proud atop their long sturdy stems. We don't walk by every day, so we rarely see the same flower twice. The roses that were in full bloom, at the height of their glory, when we last stopped to admire them, are usually turning brown and dropping their petals within a week's time. Past their glory already, soon to be cut from the stem so other roses can bud in their places. The circle of life. The rose was created with fading beauty--a short but wondrous life cycle.

Time seems so important to us. As we rush here and there to get it done, maybe there is a part of us deep down that constantly reminds us that our life is but a vapor. Here one day and gone the next--like the roses on Orange Street. Moses wrote this psalm before the second generation of Israelites crossed into the land promised them by God. The prophet had seen the mothers and fathers of the Israelite children die off. Unfit for their destiny because of their failure to listen to and love the God Who dwelt among them, led them by fire and cloud, and went before them into battle. The eternal God, Who isn't tied to time, wasn't in a hurry. Isn't in a hurry to accomplish His will. But what we do with our lives obviously matters. It not only affects our path, but also our beauty--glory--while we bloom.

I'm haunted by a picture I saw a couple of days ago of a young woman in a stark military cemetery filled with small, uniformly fashioned headstones. She is young and in her left hand is a bouquet of flowers ready to be placed in the small receptacle lying lonely as it awaits its decoration. But the woman hasn't made it to the urn. No, she's fallen atop the length of the grave, for beneath the manicured lawn that blankets the graveyard is her husband, his crypt five feet below. It's all she has left of him, so she warms him with her body and wets the grass of his grave with her tears. Her heart aches to see him look at her again. Just once more. And she wonders if it was worth it. Her life blew apart when his did, and she doesn't know how to recover. She can't think she'll ever love again. Wishes she were with him there, in the dust, forever.

Struck down in their full glory, there are many, many more graves. And countless other broken hearts and lives. Given so that today we can wonder at our fragile freedom. Young men and women cut down like so many roses now buried in the soil they fought to preserve for you and me. The sorrow of some isn't their deaths but the lives they now are living without limbs, without jobs, or maybe, without the loved ones they hoped would be faithful. Some are home in full glory. But not unaffected by the scenes of battle, the loss of friends, the weight of war. The journey has been costly generation after generation.

It matters what we do with our short lives. Even if we lived to be a thousand, it is but a drop in the bucket compared to eternity. Everlasting to everlasting debunks the idea of time, for it's only an invention of the Creator Who someday, sooner or later, calls us to an end of ourselves. In our evanescence, may we be as courageous with our lives as those who died to make us free. May we stand for what we believe is true. Protect our freedoms from the tyranny of our own countrymen as well as the brutality of our enemies. May we live more exemplary lives filled with love, mercy, joy and devotion to America so that the young widow lying atop her husband's simple grave can know he didn't die in vain.