PRIORITIES

It's late August, and we're going through our annual late-summer “heat waves” with 100-degree temperatures. I'm grateful for today's “air conditioners,” recalling my younger years in stuffy, low-budget rental apartments without “A/C.” Instead, a noisy box fan helped move air so I didn't sizzle like bacon on a hot pan.

Our current blistering-hot days find me thinking of a psalm in which a deer's thirst becomes a spiritual analogy. You probably know the one, which starts:
As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (Ps.42:1-2)

This bold, young deer visited the back yard
in late winter, obviously hungry (those
are rose bushes behind him--ouch!)

If you can remember back to the 1970s to the emergence of contemporary Bible choruses (many out of the Southern California “Maranatha!” ministries), you're probably humming that chorus. It's been running through my mind, too, as I go about my tasks. I recall how this psalm reflected a challenging time in David's life. His comfort and prestige were stripped away, and he was enduring the hard, hot life of hiding in the desert from insane, murder-intending King Saul. Food and water were precious and rare. Yet David found his hope and practical supply in God: The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. (Psalm 28:7)

I suspect that Psalm 42, with its downcast tone (like verse 3: “My tears have been my food day and night”) isn't apt to inspire upbeat “life verses.” The ticking away of days and years has its hard spots, and it's easy to think sadly about past “Glory Years.” Maybe we had more friends. Respect from others. A secure job we enjoyed. Health. A place to live which brought us comfort and happiness. A satisfying purpose for living. Or maybe a measure of fame.

Certainly “fame” was anticipated for Scotsman Eric Liddell, whose amazing athletic achievements were portrayed in the 1981 film “Chariots of Fire.” He was predicted to win the 100-meter race in the 1924 Olympics. But Liddell, a devout Christian who aspired to be a missionary, withdrew when he learned the race's heats would be held on a Sunday. Instead, he switched to the more grueling 400-meter race during the week.

In the movie script, Liddell was handed a note just before the race. Reportedly from his team's masseur, it read: “In the old book it says, he that honors me I will honor. Wishing you the best success always. 1 Samuel 2:30.” Despite the extra strain for him to attempt a race four times his “trained” length, Liddell won with an Olympic record of 47.8 seconds. It would stand until the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

From sports fame he moved on to mission work in China, dying there of an undiagnosed brain tumor in his 43^rd year. But his dedication to Christ's cause made a difference. Of course, he was asked “post-Olympics” if he regretted leaving behind his Olympic fame for mission service. He replied: “It's natural for a chap to think over all that sometimes, but I'm glad I'm at the work I'm engaged in now. A fellow's life counts for far more at this than the other.”

Powerful words about priorities! The Lord was Liddell's strength and shield. And even decades after his death, Liddell's passion for Christ still inspires.
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Enjoy these links connected to Liddell's story. This one presents the “deer” song: Bing Videos
Then, here is the movie reenactment of Liddell's Olympic race (skip the preceding ads): Bing Videos

HOLD ON TO THE 'YET' (Psalms 42-43)

This pier on the Columbia River symbolized for me

the emotions of being launched into unknowns

(An ongoing series on the 48 psalms listed as “recommended reading” for times of depression, as listed in counselor/pastor David Seamands’ book Healing for Damaged Emotions.)
Despair and hope thread through this duo of psalms, which scholars say should be read as one. Their link is the thrice-repeated refrain:

Why are you downcast, O my soul, Why so disturbed within me within me? Put your hope in God, For I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (42:5, 11; 43:5)

The phrase “been there, done that” rings through my heart when I read these psalms. Bible teachers say the author (attributed to Korah’s sons, who served in the tabernacle) was apparently away from his work and home, possibly north toward Mt. Hermon. He admits to crying day and night (42:3), suggesting some real physical and spiritual lows—yes, depression.  He misses his temple work, which kept him in an attitude of worship and joy (v. 4). He’s been subjected to ridicule by people who mock, “Where is your God?” (42:3, 10). Such people are ungodly, deceitful, wicked, his enemy (43:1-2).

It’s hard to live for God when your assaulted by so many negatives. He chose a picturesque simile when he compared his feelings to a deer that’s panting with thirst (42:1).

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (42:2)

I know people who live in the past, in “glory years” when their skills brought approval and admiration.  But life isn’t static. There are deaths, moves, job and financial changes, family adjustments, or health crises--and if we can’t adjust to our new “normal,” we’re candidates for depression. We can’t expect to forever “meet God” in the old comfortable and maybe stale ways.

STUCK IN THE PAST

The writer opens his song pining for the “good old days”—when he led worship processions in Jerusalem. But he ends it with a vital truth: that God can be worshipped wherever we are, in new ways as He grows us spiritually. For the psalm-writer, the new place is finding God’s light and truth where God has placed the believer (43:3).

Circumstances change. People change. Churches change! Hopes are raised, hopes dashed. But the constant is God, who never changes but whose character would take more than a lifetime to discover and savor.

That’s why I latch on to the little word “yet” in these two psalms. I can rehash my troubles and questions, but at the end—in the “yet” of life—I need to come back to praising Him, claiming Him as my joy and delight (43:4).

It’s a verse worth writing out on a 3x5 card and putting where you’ll see it regularly, maybe next to your computer or the bathroom mirror:

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 63: Sustained

Collapsed!  This old shed, found in a valley in our area, seemed
to symbolize times when life collapses in on us--the big
message of Psalm 63

Part of a continuing series on selected psalms.
Dusty whirlwinds spun across freshly-plowed fields as we traveled recently through desolate farm country. They didn’t last long, usually dissipating within minutes. But that same week, in middle America, the same physics of air created killer tornados that churned through towns, destroying homes and businesses and killing loved ones. How does one recover from something like that?  Likewise, how does one rebuild a life smashed by crime, betrayal or some other profound personal loss? King David suggests a way in Psalm 63, which he wrote out of a personal “tornado” that nearly cost his life and reign. It still speaks to how God sustains us when life seems to collapse around us.

THE BACKGROUND

The prelude says David wrote this while “in the desert of Judah,” which describes two times in his life. In the first, when jealous King Saul sought to kill him, David fled to enemy territory, Philistia, thinking Saul wouldn’t dare go there. But the Philistines unhappily recognized David as killer of their once invincible Goliath. David fled again, alone, to a wilderness cave. Psalm 56 grew out of this time (see May 9 blog).

Psalm 63 comes years later, when he is king (verse 22 says, “the king will rejoice in God”). Hs son Solomon (birthed by Bathsheba) was the heir-apparent, but another son, Absalom, from another wife, also aspired to the throne. Second Samuel 15-19 tells how Absalom spent four years wooing the peoples’ allegiance, and set out to establish a rival kingship in nearby Hebron. Attacking and dethroning his father was the next step. David fled for his life to the wilderness east of the Jordan. This psalm was composed in that time of brutal, soul-searching uncertainty. David didn’t know if he’d live through Absalom’s coup. A messy, bloody battle would follow, with Absalom killed.

THIRSTY GROUND

This psalm begins with David hiding in the desert wilderness with his entourage of family and faithful followers. Shortly after fleeing Jerusalem, David saw God provide for their exile when a loyal servant showed up with donkeys laden with food. Still, David needed assurance of God’s presence even in exile:
O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. (63:1)
The way David expressed his spiritual thirst is similar to Psalm 42, written by the sons of Korah: “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God” (see April 18 blog). Parched for spiritual assurance and comfort, David’s plea could be that of any of us in a desperate life situation, like the death or rejection of a loved one, or the traumatic removal of a job, home, or status.

HOLY GROUND

In exile, David longed for the way things used to be. He remembered the vibrant, even boisterous, worship he participated in at the “sanctuary,” which was the Exodus-era tabernacle relocated in Jerusalem. Worship there brought him as close on earth as he could get to witnessing God’s power and glory (63:2). Especially was the tabernacle’s ark (holding the Ten Commandments, a jar of manna, and Aaron’s bud that bloomed) precious to him. He’d rescued it after it was captured and shuttled around enemy territory. Now it sat behind heavy curtains, the top of it sprinkled with blood on the Jews’ most holy day of the year. Interestingly, the ark of the covenant almost followed David into the wilderness. Zadok and other priests joined those leaving Jerusalem, taking along the ark and stopping occasionally to offer sacrifices. But David told Zadok to take the ark back to Jerusalem. If God was on his side, he’d be able to return to worship at the tabernacle (2 Samuel 15:24-29).

SATISFIED SPIRITS

Could David worship God away from all the beauty and ritual of the tabernacle? Could God possibly be in the desert? The answer comes in these key verses:
Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you. (vv. 3-5)
God is not bound by church architecture. However, disbelief and disobedience can move us away from His intimate presence. In exile in the desert, David didn’t have the rich foods he enjoyed in his palace. But dwelling on God, worshipping Him, and lifting up holy hands (see 1 Timothy 2:8) gave David the spiritual feast he needed. Out of his painful personal example, David is teaching us that the more our difficulties, the more important worship should become to us.

I recently read the newest book by international author-speaker Carol Kent, titled Unquenchable (Zondervan, 2014). Carol was thrust into a “dry and weary land” in 1999 when her only child, Jason, a U.S. Navy Academy graduate, was arrested for the murder of his wife’s first husband, who was suspected of sexually abusing his daughters. After many delays and a trial sensationalized by the media, Jason was sentenced to life in prison. In this book, Carol shares her own and others’ “faith firestorms” of profound loss and betrayal, to the point that the flame of faith dropped to a weak flicker. Carol remarked that when life’s challenges seem to douse our feelings of closeness to God, “we must never confuse feelings with faith. When our feelings wane—and they will, for all sorts of reasons—we must stir through the ashes to reveal the glowing embers of our still-living faith. Embers…are critically important to an enduring wildfire faith” (p. 70).

This is what I sense communicated in Psalm 63. David is down to barely flickering embers. But he doesn’t give up on God. He worships God even in barren circumstances. At night, when he can’t sleep (understandable, considering all that’s happening!), he thinks of God. He claims God’s help. He pictures himself as under God’s protective wings. And he sings! As he clings to God, he senses God upholding him. Or, to match this to Carol’s imagery, he stirs the last embers of faith to keep going.

DUE PROCESS

The psalm ends on what seems a harsh, imprecatory note, wishing woe on his enemies. He wants them destroyed, sent to hell (Sheol), killed by the sword, and fed to jackals (not given a decent burial), their mouths silenced. This could be David expressing confidence that punishment would come to the enemies of God. But we also need to read this in light of the New Testament: “God, our Savior…wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:5). No matter who is our “enemy,” they still need a Savior. And they need to see people who “rejoice in God,” even when they’re alone, discouraged, or in danger.

Like David, the apostle Paul suffered greatly under enemies who wanted him dead. Yet he found himself sustained by this truth, which sounds so much like Psalm 63: “The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen” (2 Timothy 4:18).

 

Next: Psalm 69      

 

Making ‘Psense’ of Psalms—Psalms 42-43: Hope

Sunset on a stormy day--photographed at Moscow, Idaho--
an appropriate visual for spiritual hope in life's dark times

Part of a continuing series on Psalms.
 “Well, they have ‘down-in-the-dumps’ right,” I reflected after reading Psalms 42 and 43. At some time, I’d probably whined my own version of the psalms’ refrain: “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted ["disturbed" in NIV] in me?” (42:5, 11; 43:5).  I was the guest of honor at my personal pity party. Then the refrain’s conclusion grabbed me with its remedy for being down-in-the-mouth: “Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.”  The “cure” for those downcast, “poor me” times was turning attention from myself to the hope I have in the Lord. These psalms need to be read together. Indeed, in early Hebrew manuscripts (before the assignment of chapter-and-verse headings), they were linked. Attributed to the “sons of Korah” (temple musicians), there’s no historical subtitle. But the imagery and intense language transcend time as they speak to us today, particularly when we feel depressed.

THIRSTY

Psalm 42 opens with a picture of desperate thirst: “As the hart [deer] panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.” Unlike camels, whose fatty humps help them survive long periods in desert terrain, deer must have regular access to water. I live in “high desert” with miles and miles of rocky scrublands, bisected by a life-giving river. The highway along the river is a death trap for deer trying to get to water. Despite warning signs for drivers, deer still get hit. When I see a deer carcass while traveling, I’m reminded of Psalm 42 and its truth through this image that our true spiritual survival depends on sating our thirst for “the living God” (42:2). 

Spiritual opposition can heighten our thirst. The psalmist tells of non-believers who scoff, “Where is thy God?” (42:3). Deceitful and unjust people jeer the believer (43:1). The psalmist also pines over missing the festive worship at the temple in Jerusalem (42:4). Worship in those days involved processions, dancing and singing.    

LONESOME

Some scholars think the psalm’s author may have been far away, near Mount Hermon, about a hundred miles from Jerusalem as the crow flies. Though separated from the temple worship with all its festive trappings, he found there a new way to connect with God. He refers to Hermon and a lesser hill, Mizar, plus what might be the cascading headwaters that eventually drain to the Jordan (42:6, 7).  He also senses God’s power and plan in the cycle of day and night (42:8). What we today call “natural revelation” reminds him that he can worship God even  away from the temple. Even today, people find special spiritual encouragement by simply getting away to reflect on God’s creative power.

Thinking about God’s attributes encouraged the psalmist. Embedded in both Psalms 42 and 43 are numerous names for the works and character of God. He is “the living God” (42:2, a phrase found in another yearning-for-God psalm, number 84).  He is “my God” (42:6, 11: 43:4), with the pronoun “my” indicating a personal connection to this great God of all.  He is “the LORD” (v. 8), rendered in small capitals in English Bible translations to indicate the name that Jews considered so holy that they would not speak or write it.  We know it as YHWH or “Jehovah.” The psalmist also addresses God as “God of my life” (42:8), suggesting submission.  He is “God my rock” (42:9), a solid and reliable God, a term that shows up in nearly twenty other psalms. He is “God of my strength” (43:2), the source for “keeping on.”  He is “God my exceeding joy” (43:3), who will bring me out of that “downcast” condition. 

Even before studying this psalm, I had begun a practice of meditating on the names and attributes of God.  When problems kept me awake at night, I started going through the alphabet, recalling the names of God that gave me courage and encouragement.  I considered Him as the “Almighty One,” my Burden-bearer, my Compassionate Comforter—and on and on. By “Z,” peace and sleep would usually come. The practice reminded me that God, in the fullness of his deity, is far greater than any problem I might face.

FACE-BRIGHTENER

The last part of the psalms’ thrice-repeated refrain also reminded me of God’s care in difficult experiences: “Hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.” One more recent translation renders this “my Savior and my God” (NIV). The idea is that the God who lifts our saddened faces to show us His profound love is indeed the One who “saves” us from this despondency.

For me, the refrain’s key word is “hope.”  The apostle Paul reminded us “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). He emphasized that life’s tribulations can lead us, in God’s plan, to hope that never disappoints (“maketh not ashamed,” Romans 5:5 in KJV).

Psalms 42 and 43 are no longer the “despondency” psalms for me.  Yes, they describe someone who is downhearted.  But the psalms’ refrains don’t leave me stuck on “downcast.”  They remind me to hang on to hope. As John Stott remarked in Favorite Psalms (Baker, ’88, ’03, p. 50): “The cure for depression is neither to look in at our grief, nor back to our past, nor round at our problems, but away and up to the living God.”

Next week: Psalm 46.

The Salve Psalms

Autumn’s dropping leaves are reminders that life includes times of loss that can leave us bewildered. I know at times I identified with the psalmist who cried out, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?” (42:5, 11; 43:5). Psalm 42’s spiritual metaphor of a deer desperate for water made sense for me, too: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (42:2).  

I was drawn to these psalms when I experienced major life disruptions and turmoil with emotional and physical consequences. A man I loved rejected me. Several times I faced adjustments in moving far away from home. My parents’ months-apart deaths and resulting estate tasks overwhelmed me. Other times of despair came with a serious car wreck, care-giving ailing in-laws, and coping with the “empty nest.”

But recently, as I reflected on both psalms (which are linked in original Hebrew manuscripts), I found I’d missed how that despondent query ended with the salve of a hopeful “yet”: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”        

The psalmist reveals several possible reasons for this downheartedness. One is spiritual opposition. Non-believers scoff, “Where is your God?” (42:3, also implied in 43:1-2). He misses familiar ways of worshipping with others (42:4). Scholars think he’s homesick—possibly displaced from Jerusalem to someplace near Mt. Hermon and the headwaters of the Jordan (42:6, 7). Yet even there he realizes that the place’s natural beauty (“deep calls to deep,” 42:7)) is nature’s music drawing him to the omnipresent God. I recalled how getting out to a place of beauty refreshed me when I felt down.

But the greater salve is embedded in the psalms’ names of God. He is “the living God” (42:2), true and able. He is the personal “my God” (42:5, 11: 43:4), He is powerful covenant God known as “the LORD” (v. 8). This name (rendered in small capitals in English Bible translations) is so holy to Jews that they will not speak or write it. We know it as YHWH or “Jehovah.” The psalmist also voices submission to “God of my life” (42:8). He prays to the solid, safe “God my rock” (42:9) and “God, my stronghold” (43:2). From his despair, he appeals to “God, my joy and my delight” (43:4). 

Even before studying this psalm, I had begun a practice of meditating on the names and attributes of God.  When problems kept me awake at night, I started going through the alphabet, recalling the names of God that gave me courage and encouragement.  I considered Him as the “Almighty One,” my Burden-bearer, my Compassionate Comforter—and on and on. By “Z,” peace and sleep would usually come. The practice reminded me that God, in the fullness of His deity, is far greater than any problem I might face.

The last part of the psalms’ thrice-repeated refrain also reminded me of God’s care in difficult experiences: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” The King James version renders that last part, “the health of my countenance, and my God.” The idea is that the God who lifts our saddened faces to show us His profound love is indeed the One who wants to save us from this despondency. He may use medical professionals to aid us out to health.

For me, the refrain’s key word is “hope.”  The apostle Paul reminded us that “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). He emphasized that life’s tribulations can lead us, in God’s plan, to hope that never disappoints (5:5).

Psalms 42 and 43 are no longer the “despondency” psalms for me.  Yes, they describe someone who’s downhearted.  But the psalms’ refrains don’t leave me stuck on “downcast.”  They remind me that, in life’s spiritual autumns and winters, to hang on to hope. They assure me that it’s okay to thirst for God and seek a deeper relationship with Him. When I admit my need, He will lead me to His waters of spiritual refreshment. Thus renewed, I will again praise Him, my Savior and my God.

Thirsty

Close to the middle of this photo are deer drinking in the river.

“I see some deer,” my husband exclaimed as he pulled our car off the canyon road. We were about 80 miles from home, enjoying the autumn colors on a lesser-traveled road. Climbing over a guard rail, we stood on a ledge hundreds of feet away from four deer drinking the chilly river water. They soon detected human presence, and bounded back up the hill into their hiding places.

The opening words to Psalm 42 came to mind: “As the deer pants for streams of waters, so my soul pants for you, O God.” I recalled explaining that psalm to a group of women years ago. One, her face chiseled by her hard life before she came to Christ, said, “I can relate to thirsting for God.”

The Hebrew word that we translate “pant” is arag and this is its only use in the Bible. It also means “to long for.” I can understand the thirst and panting that compels an animal to find water. I once had two fawns in my house (aka long-legged young teens) who became substitute paper carriers for a huge route serving more than a hundred customers. Of course, it was summer’s most blistering week and Mom had to come along as driver. I made sure we all filled our water bottles before going to the paper drop-off point, where we sat in the meager shade outside the car. Unfortunately, that was next to the locked-up swimming pool of a manufactured home community. I shot a mom’s glance that said, “Don’t even think about climbing the fence for a few cannonballs while we wait.”

After an hour, the water bottles were drained and my fawns were gasping, “I’m d-y-i-n-g” (which made me think of a cowboy song that includes a lot of yippee-yi-yoos). Finally, I decided to drive us home to refill the water bottles and call the newspaper about our tardy delivery. “Sorry, the press broke down,” the harried circulation assistant said. “I don’t know when your bundles will be delivered. You’ll just have to stay at the dropoff point.” So back we went to wait. My two fawns were about to drop out of this. Yes, the papers did eventually come and we sweated through the route in record time. Home again, they collapsed with more long drinks of water...while I had to figure out dinner. (How about ice cube soup?)

Whether a blistering summer afternoon, or a chilly autumn morning, thirst is a normal part of our creation. It’s also a symbol of our longing to be refreshed and satisfied by the One who created us. That’s why, as we drove away from watching the deer, I thought of other scriptures that speak of spiritual thirst:
“He satisfies the thirsty.” (Psalm 107:9)
“Come, all you who are thirsty.” (Isaiah 55:1)
“If a man is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.” (John 7:37)
“Whoever is thirsty, let him come.” (Revelation 22:17)

We hear so much today about the “WWW,” the world-wide web. It precedes the internet addresses of sites like mine. But we also need to be life-long students of the Bible’s “world-wide word webs,” discovering how even single words in this God-inspired book are interconnected in amazing ways. When we arag after God—longing for, even panting for Him--He promises to satisfy that thirst in the deepest part of who we are.