Showing posts with label Psalm 118:24. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalm 118:24. Show all posts

Friday, February 11, 2022

EUPHEMISTICALLY CORRECT

The dreary, dead-of-winter months can really drag us down, especially those prone to feeling wrung out. I have one of those “happy lights” (mimicking healthy sunlight) by my desk. I also seek out positive ways to relate to everyday spiritual challenges. That's why a few years ago I decided to read Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones' book, Spiritual Depression (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965). Trained as a doctor, he'd seen his share of depressed patients. But as a Bible scholar, he also dispensed scriptural wisdom about circumstances and people who get us “down.”

In his chapter titled “Fear of the Future,” Lloyd-Jones referred to 2 Timothy 1:7: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (KJV). Timothy, who was the apostle Paul's young protege pastor, needed a reminder that God was sufficient in every way as he pastored some challenging church plants. The same truth applies to us in whatever spiritual challenges we face. Lloyd-Jones remarked of Paul's words for God's enabling:

Though you and I may be timorous and nervous, the Spirit that God has given us is the Spirit of control, the Spirit of discipline, the Spirit of judgment. (p. 104)

He illustrated this point with a story from English history in the mid-to-late 1600s. At that time, the commoners were at odds with the Stuart line of kings for interfering in the affairs of the Presbyterian church of Scotland. Actually, “at odds” is a bland term for the severe penalties faced by the common Scottish believers who called themselves “Covenanters.”

The story goes like this. A young girl (from a Covenanter family) was headed toward a secret, prohibited communion service when stopped by the king's soldiers. Her freedom, perhaps even her life, were at stake. Her conscience would not permit her to lie. Instead, she used euphemisms in explaining her trip:

My Elderly Brother has died and they are going to read His will this afternoon, and He has done something for me and has left something for me, and I want to hear them read the will.”

Yes, at that critical moment, she replied with power, love and a sound mind, and they let her go. Her “elder brother” who had died was Christ. At the communion service, she would hear His “will” read (scripture), reviewing what He had done for her and left for her.

Lloyd-Jones remarked of this illustration, intended to encourage those prone to spiritual depression:

Instead of allowing the future and thoughts of it to grip you, talk to yourself, remind yourself of who you are and what you are, and of what Spirit is within you; and , having reminded yourself of the character of the Spirit, you will be able to go steadily forward, fearing nothing, living in the present, ready for the future, with one desire only, to glorify Him who gave His all for you. (p. 105)

During winter's gray days (especially for those of us in colder climates), it's a message of Light worth “soaking in”...and practicing. God is able to give us the right words—and the right attitude—when we depend on Him! 

Worth repeating when you look out on a gray day: "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 181:24 KJV). 

Friday, June 28, 2019

FLYING TWEETS AND TWITTERS


When I married and moved to a small central Washington town, mornings just got better. In Portland, greater Los Angeles and Chicago, I woke to the roar of traffic. Now, the twitters and tweets of birds come through the open window. It’s so peaceful and a poignant reminder that the same Creator God who made things that fly also made me, and has never gone out of business!

I’m not famous as a “morning person.” Like a diesel engine, I need time to warm up, and more so as I age.  My morning routine now includes a heat pad on a painful knee. But my new “normal” is okay. “Wake up and be awesome,” urges one of the signs I liked. Sometimes upon wakening, I pull on old concerns like a ratty old robe. I’m prone to identify with King David in Psalm 5. There he rehearses how mean and demeaning people have made his life miserable. But there’s a golden verse toward the beginning:
Listen to my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray.
Morning by morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; morning by morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. (Psalm 5:2-3)

One of my morning habits is making the bed before starting on the day’s duties. It’s like closing the night chapter and opening the day chapter for whatever God has ahead. No matter what yesterday brought, this is a new day. David also wrote:
Weeping may remain for a night, But rejoicing comes in the morning. (Psalm 30:5)
Then, as part of morning devotions (besides reading the Bible), I often pick up a hymnal kept next to my devotional "spot." Dozens are part of my spiritual heritage, their tunes easily recalled, and their words uplifting with praise and Biblical truth. Godly men and women who condensed spiritual lessons to rhyme continue to speak.

Fortified by song and God’s Word, I’m ready to add my voice to the day, remembering another psalm:
This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118:24)
When I look in the mirror and acknowledge the aging process, I also remember that God created me for more than this earth. But for now, the morning tweets and twitters (which have nothing to do with the cyberworld) outside my window declare that I can wake up and be awesome—in God’s sight.