We moved my mother so she would be near us the last few years of her life.  She has accumulated a lot in 87 years.  Even though she gave away at least half of her kitchen equipment and several pieces of furniture, as the movers traipsed in and out and the little house begin to fill, we no longer said, “In the living room,” or “In the back bedroom.”  By the end we were telling them, “Just find an empty corner and put it there.”  True, the house is 100 square feet less than the one she left, but that’s only a 10 x 10 room, perhaps one very small bedroom, and there seems to be many more times that much furniture we have yet to find a place for.  It appears that she will need to give away even more.

 I found myself thinking what I might give up when we need to leave this place we have lived for 33 years now.  Relatively small as family homes go, just 1330 square feet, we still managed to raise two boys to manhood and have accumulated far more than will fit in a house the size of my mother’s new one.  So what can I do without?

 The answer is really simple.  You can do without practically every possession you have.  Just look at what we take camping.  It’s a lot to take for a vacation, but for living, it’s practically nothing and we manage just fine for well over a week. 

 But maybe the answer is even easier than that.  What will you take in the moving van when you die?  Absolutely nothing.  It will be empty from front to rear, top to bottom.  Absolute essentials for this physical life may be the smallest and plainest amounts of food, clothing, and shelter, but for your spiritual life, all those things that you spend so much time picking out, caring for, and working to pay for are completely nonessential 

 So why do we spend so much time and energy on them?  Why do we care so much where we live and how it is decorated, what we wear and who designed it, what we eat and how good it tastes?  Could it be because we have forgotten this fundamental truth:  things of this life—possessions, status, wealth, connections—none of it matters to the wise child of God. 

Do they matter to you?  If you could not give them up, they matter more than you probably want to admit.  And if losing them would turn you into an emotional wreck, your priorities need a serious overhaul.

Today, think about that moving van on the day of your death.  It doesn’t really matter what you might like to put in it.  Your soul is going somewhere, but it won’t move an inch.

Be not afraid when a man becomes rich, when the glory of his house increases. ​For when he dies he will carry nothing away; his glory will not go down after him,Ps 49:16-17.

Dene Ward

I live where the animals meditate quite often.  When we first moved here, the bobcats screamed in the woods every night.  Even after all these years of people moving closer and closer in on us, the mourning doves still cry and moan every day, morning and evening.  I hear one out there now even as I type.

 “Meditate?” you ask. 

 Exactly.

 For thus the LORD said to me, As a lion or a young lion roars over his prey…Isa 31:4.

 Like a swallow or a crane I chirp; I mourn like a dove…Isa 38:14.

 “Roars” and “mourn” are the same Hebrew word translated “meditate” in the KJV, including this one:  But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.  Ps 1:2.

 I grew up in a time when “transcendental meditation” was popular.  Most of those who participated sat in the lotus position and hummed the syllable in the above title.  I have no idea what was in their minds at the time, but it seems a far cry from the passages above.  Yet, from what I have seen, we don’t really understand what meditation is any better than they did.

 A Bible class teacher once told us he had decided to meditate more.  He did this by memorizing a passage every week and then reciting it at various times during the day.  As he continued talking, it seemed he expected that repetition to magically change his attitudes and his heart.  As an educator, I understand that repetition is the key to learning, but simple repetition itself is as useless to your heart as repeating Hail Marys.  The New Testament calls such things “vain repetition.”  Maybe it’s time to see what the Bible says about meditating instead of what the world does.

 I looked up every occurrence of the Hebrew word found in the three passages above.  I found 24.  In the King James Version, the word is translated “meditate” 6 times, which is the most frequent translation.  But here is a really interesting case.  While in Psalm 1:2, the word speaks of the action of a righteous man, in Psalm 2:1, the action is of the wicked and is translated “plot” in the ESV (“imagine” in the KJV).  The word clearly involves some mental activity.  In Psalm 38:12 the wicked are imagining “treachery all day long.”  In fact, in the ESV that is translated “meditating” treachery.

 Seven times the word is translated “speak” or “talk” or “utter” so it does involve sound, but not that mindless hum or rote repetition so many think.  If you check out the passages, the wicked “speak” (meditate) deceit or perverseness or falsehood.  The righteous “speak” (meditate) wisdom and truth, and “talk of” (meditate) God’s praise and righteousness.  Try doing any of those things without some serious thought.

 So where does the “sound” involved in this word come from?  Sheer effort and emotion.  The young lion roaring over his prey in the Isaiah 31 passage has reached a moment of intense effort in his hunt for food.  Although the dove is not really mourning, the passage is a metaphor for God mourning over his lost people, trying to save them.  Imagine reaching out to grab someone who is about to take a serious fall, or step in front of an oncoming vehicle.  Would you do it quietly?

 No, meditating on God’s word is not a time of quiet, mindless repetition.  It is a time of intense mental effort.  “Ponder how to answer” the ESV translates it in Prov 15:28.  Run it over and over in your mind for the various possibilities, for the possible results of actions or the ideas to which those thought processes might lead.  Meditate today on meditation, for clues in the texts themselves or, as we have done, in how the word is used in other places.  Memorizing is wonderful.  Reading the word of God is a necessity for one of his children, but if all you do is speak the words either aloud or in your mind, you have done no better than a pagan on his yoga mat.

Be diligent in these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy progress may be manifest unto all.  1Tim 4:15

Dene Ward

Yes, there are more obvious things we simply read over in Psalm 23.

 When do you usually hear a reading of the twenty-third psalm?  Funerals and deathbeds, right?  We have consigned this little gem to those two occasions, probably because of the translation, “the valley of the shadow of death.”  Yet, if we had simply done a little study—very little, in fact—instead of just accepting what we always hear and assuming it the beginning and end of the matter, we would have found many other uses for this psalm.

 “The valley of the shadow of death” is actually one Hebrew word—tsalmaveth—and it can mean “deep darkness.”  It is, in fact, translated that way in the modern versions.  Yes, in Job 38:17 it seems to refer to physical death, but in Jer 2:6 it refers to the wilderness wandering, certainly a dark era for the people of God.  In Jer 13:16 it refers to the coming destruction and captivity, perhaps their darkest period.  In Job 34:22 I am not certain what it refers to, but it certainly isn’t death.  This is important because all of us experience times of deep darkness in our lives.  To know that God is with us during those times too, not just at death, is a comfort beyond any other.

 And do notice this, God is the one leading us to and through this dark place.  In fact, coming immediately after “he leads me in paths of righteousness” (literally, “right paths”), this dark place is the right place for me to be.  It may be a severe trial, but for some reason I need to be there.  It is right for me to be there, and God will lead me “through” it.  He will not put me there and leave me there.  Even something as severe as losing a child, becoming disabled, or becoming terminally ill, is one He has led me to and through, accompanying me all the way. 

 But there may well be other kinds of dark places I must go through, and will realize He has been with me when I get out on the other side.  That is, if I have remained His faithful servant, trusting in His wisdom and care.  As long as He is with me, “I will fear no evil.”  It may be that His presence involves correction or discipline (His “rod and staff”), but I know that He loves me and this is the right place for me to be, and that even in this dark place, “goodness and mercy follows me,” that is, “pursues” me.  His goodness and mercy are on the hunt for me, even in the dark places—especially in the dark places.

 Don’t miss out on the gold in this little treasure chest just because you have heard it all your life.  Use it to help you navigate those dark places, with Him as your guiding star.  Trust Him, as this particular genre of psalms is called, the Psalms of Trust, or Psalms of Confidence—in God. 

 You can make it through the dark to a light beyond, which is also implied, for you can’t have a shadow without a light shining somewhere.

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident. One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple, Psalm 27:1-4.

Dene Ward

Back in my younger years I was a jogger.  If you missed the story, slip over to the “categories,” and click on “Country Life.”  Scroll down to “One Fencepost at a Time”—even farther back than “Backwards One Fencepost at a Time”—and you can read about it with its own lesson of encouragement.

 When I finally progressed to jogging on the highway instead of the cow pasture (explained in that previous post), the first time I took nearly twice as long as I should have to jog the same distance.  Ordinarily, jogging on a firm surface is easier because your feet push off and the momentum is with you instead of all sinking down into the dirt, sand, mud, or grass of the softer surfaces.  That was not what slowed me down.  What kept distracting me were the things I had passed by in a car every day for three years and never seen before.

 In a car, you usually see the road, the signs, and possible problems—other cars, animals both domesticated and wild, pedestrians, potholes, discarded bottles, trash bags that fell off other vehicles, boards that might have nails in them, pieces of blown tires.  You must look for those things if you want to avoid an accident. 

 But that morning as I jogged slowly by I found out for the first time that a tiny creek ran through a four foot diameter culvert under the road just past the neighbor by the woods.  I discovered a path through those same woods that led to a ramshackle cabin a hundred feet off the road, nearly hidden by the ramrod straight pines.  I discovered that another neighbor had a second driveway, much smaller, that led to a shed behind the house.  Then as I approached the bridge over the New River, I found a path snaking off to its side, probably used by fishermen looking for bait, or kids swimming in the shallows.  All those things had been there the whole time I had, but it was as if I had discovered a brand new place.

 That is exactly how I felt after our ladies’ class studied Psalm 23.  I almost skipped that one—everyone knows it.  We all memorized it as children.  If there is a Bible passage in a movie, it is apt to be that one.  Why should we include that in what I hoped to be a study of brand new material for most of us?  Because it was brand new material, too.  I had gotten out of the speeding vehicle passing through it, and had jogged at a slower pace, seeing the details for the first time.  We are going to talk about what I found this time and next.

 Psalm 23 is classified as a Psalm of Trust.  I doubt that David, Ethan, Asaph, Solomon, Heman, the sons of Korah, Moses, or any other of the writers of the psalms actually made a decision to write a particular type of psalm and then followed some carefully laid out pattern.  No, the elements and patterns have been analyzed by scholars thousands of years removed from them, but it is interesting that they do follow something of a pattern.  For instance, Psalms of Trust (some call them Psalms of Confidence [in God]) tend to view God in metaphorical terms.  He is variously called a shield, a fortress, a rock, a shelter, a master [of slaves], and in this familiar psalm a shepherd.

 But here is the part I always missed—the metaphor in these psalms is apt to change abruptly, as it does here in verse 5.  Suddenly God is depicted as a host.  Some of the older commentators do not want to see this change, but please tell me, when was the last time you saw a sheep eating at a table or drinking out of a cup?  No, the shepherd feeds the sheep in verse 2: he makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.  Sheep eat grass and drink water, and the shepherd has fed them exactly what they want and need.  Now it is the host’s turn to feed his friend in a brand new metaphor.

 And notice this, the host in verses 5 and 6 is not just an acquaintance fulfilling the obligations of hospitality in the Eastern tradition.  He is a close friend.  He takes you into his house not just for a meal but to “dwell forever.”  Indeed the Hebrew word for “house” often implies “household.”  That last verse could easily and correctly be translated “and I will remain in the family of the Lord forever.”  We’re not talking about being a pet sheep in the family, but a human member of the family, someone who eats at the table with the rest of the family, the truest sign of acceptance in that culture.

 See what you miss when you just breeze through an old familiar passage without a second thought?  You need to get out of the car and walk through it, paying attention to every detail and thinking about every nuance.  That’s how you learn new things.  And this new thing is nothing compared to the one I will show you tomorrow.

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, Eph 2:19.

Dene Ward

Oh come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation! Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise!  Psalm 95:1,2.

 Psalm 95 is generally thought to have been one sung during the Feast of Tabernacles.  Meribah and Massah are used in its body, a time in the wilderness when God taught His people a hard lesson.  But this psalm starts just as you would expect a festival psalm to.  Come let us sing, let us make a joyful noise. 

 Just as an interesting point, the Hebrew word translated “sing” in this passage is not a musical word.  Ranan means to emit a stridulous sound (not exactly how I would want my singing described) or to shout, and is indeed translated shout, cry out, rejoice, joy, or triumph half the time in the KJV.  And that makes that opening couplet much more parallel to the second one, “make a joyful noise to him.” 

 About that “joyful noise:” that particular Hebrew word means to mar, especially by breaking, to shout, or to split the ears.  In our words we might say, “He burst my eardrums he was so loud.”  Think about standing at a football stadium in the middle of the game, or beneath a jet engine as it revs for take-off.  That’s the noise we are talking about.  In fact, this word is translated “blow an alarm [with a trumpet]” a couple of times.  As the second verse continues, we are to do this in psalms of praise so singing is involved, but the point of these two words is not the melody but the volume, caused by unabashed joy and celebration.

 You find this often in the psalms.  Noise and clamor seemed to be a part of the Jewish worship.  Perhaps the psalmist, and God as his inspiration, had noticed.  Right in the middle of the psalm, he throws what amounts to a cold bucket of water on all the festivities. 

 Their celebration of the feast had made them forget what the wandering was all about—and it wasn’t fun and games.  An entire generation died because of their faithlessness.  Toward the end of verse 7 he interrupts their self-congratulation that God loves them and cares for them with, Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts, as at Meribah, as on the day at Massah in the wilderness, when your fathers put me to the test and put me to the proof.   

 Yes, God made a covenant that He would be with them and protect them, but only if they performed their half of the contract.  Their ancestors did not.  God goes on to say that He loathed that generation.  That English word, I am told, is far too mild for the Hebrew idea.  It means they disgusted Him, they nauseated Him, as in “I will spew you out of my mouth” nausea.  Because of that, they did not receive the promised rest, a rest like God’s, a Sabbath rest not because you are tired, but because have finished the task (Heb 4:1-11).

 Those people seemed to think, as the prophets testified, that all it took was loud worship to please God.  The tendency is to judge our own worship as lacking because of this, too.  We ask, “Why don’t we ever do that?” as if anything solemn and quiet is not sincere worship and certainly not acceptable to God.  It is easy to think, as they did, that volume is all that matters. 

 “If you hear his voice” the psalmist says and then makes it clear that hearing involves reverence and obedience.  In order to underscore this emphasis, the psalmist does not go back and say, “Okay, get on with the celebration now.  I just wanted to interject a warning.”  No, this is where he ends it.  He wants this to be the last thing on their minds as they finish singing this psalm:  “Therefore I swore in my wrath, they shall not enter into my rest.”

 What started out as a jubilant service ends up with the wrath of God.  I am sure their songs were not quite so ecstatic, their noise not quite so loud, for who can be carefree when he contemplates the wrath of the Almighty, the one the psalmist has already reminded us created everything and holds it in His hand? 

Take away from me the noise of your songs; for I will not hear the melody of your viols. But let justice roll down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream, Amos 5:23,24.

Dene Ward.

The earth is Jehovah's, and the fulness thereof; The world, and they that dwell therein. For he has founded it upon the seas, And established it upon the floods, Psalm 24:1,2.

 Many scholars believe that the twenty-fourth psalm was written by David to celebrate the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant to his new capital, Jerusalem.  When you read 1 Chronicles 13 and 15 and see the great amount of singing and worshipping going on, and then read the words to this psalm, that supposition makes good sense, and the ancient writings of the rabbis attest to it as well.

 However, even here at the beginning of the psalm David sees a danger in settling this manifestation of God’s presence in one location—the people would be tempted to think that God was stuck there, in that box, in that building, in that city, that He did not reign over the rest of the earth, much less any other people.  So he begins this psalm with the passage above to remind them that God could not be put in a literal box, and certainly not in a figurative box of one’s own expectations and understanding.  God made the whole world, and therefore rules the whole world and every person on it.

 David was right to be so concerned.  Ezekiel spent several of his opening chapters trying to get the same point across to the captives in Babylon by the canal Chebar, who believed that God was no longer with them, but still back in Jerusalem.  He is right here with you, Ezekiel told them.  That is the point of that amazing vision in chapter one—God can be anywhere at any time.

 Do you think we don’t have the same problem?  We keep trying to put God in a box called a church building or a meetinghouse or whatever your own bias leans toward calling it.  That’s why we have people who compartmentalize their religion.  They think “church” is all about what happens at the building, and the change in their behavior when they leave that building is the proof of it. 

 A man who can recite the “plan of salvation” in Bible class will cheat his customers to his own gain during the week.

 A woman who can quote proof texts verbatim on Sunday morning will turn around and gossip over the phone every other day of the week.

 A couple who appears every time the door is opened will carry on a running feud with a neighbor and treat each other as if none of the passages in the New Testament apply to anyone with the same last name. 

 What? God asked His people. "Will you act like the heathen around you six days a week “and then come and stand before me in this house, which is called by my name, and say, ‘We are delivered!’—only to go on doing all these abominations?”  Jer 7:10.  David used the middle of this psalm to remind the people who was fit to come before the presence of the LORD—only men of holiness, honesty, and integrity, not just on the Sabbath, but always. 

 Because they put God in a box called after the covenant He made with them, they thought that their behavior only counted in His presence, forgetting the lessons that both David and Solomon had tried to teach them—God cannot be confined to anything manmade, not even the most magnificent Temple ever built by men, much less a comparatively miniscule box.  As David proclaimed in finishing Psalm 24, Who is this King of glory? The LORD, strong and mighty, the LORD, mighty in battle!...The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory! — Selah. 

 Selah--pause, and feel the impact.

Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? ​He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation, Psa 24:3-5.

Dene Ward

Years ago I sang in the evening chorus at the university.  Chorus was required for my degree, and this was the only chorus that fit my schedule, a schedule that included teaching private piano lessons, running a home, and interning as a music teacher in a local elementary school.  Add to that, I was a preacher’s wife—just learning, as he was, but still dealing with extra obligations.

 We had a program scheduled and the director called an extra rehearsal.  That rehearsal did not fit my schedule.  I would have had to cancel a few lessons and more important, miss a Wednesday evening Bible study.  He made it clear that no misses would be excused short of death beds.  So I took a deep breath when I broached the lion in his den the next afternoon.

 My heart sank when I saw three others waiting outside his office.  Instead of calling us in one by one, he came out and stood in the hall and listened as the first one asked to be excused.  “Absolutely not!” he said sternly.  “You already miss too many rehearsals.  If you don’t show up, you will be dismissed from the chorus.”  The next one received a similar reply and the next.  They all left, crestfallen.

 Then he saw me at the back of the line.  “If you have to dismiss me, I understand,” I began, “but my husband is a preacher and we have a Bible study that night.  I just cannot miss it.” 

 I was shocked when a small smile twitched at his lips.  “You I don’t worry about,” he said quietly.  “You are always there.  You listen when I give directions.  You know your part.  You haven’t missed a single performance.  Go to your Bible study.  You still have a place in my chorus.” Talk about relief.  I drove home praising God in my heart.

 Have you read Psalm 123?  That psalm is classified as a psalm of trust, written on behalf of the entire nation of Israel.  Many psalms are full of hallelujahs, with shouts of Hosanna, with dancing and leaping and loud expressions of joy.  Not this one.  Psalm 123 is a quiet psalm.  It is presented as servants watching quietly from the corner of the room for the smallest sign from the master that he wants something. 

 Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us, v 2.

 Leupold says, “There is nothing powerful, moving or sublime that finds expression here.  A quiet, submissive tone prevails throughout.  It is subdued in character.”  This is simply a servant doing his master’s will in an unobtrusive manner, calmly asking for relief but going about his duty even in the midst of trial, trusting that his prayer will be answered without his further interference.

 I like this psalm.  I have never been one who needs to demonstrate my love for God loudly, yet everyone knows it is there simply from the way I live my life.  If my chorus director could know I was a “faithful student” despite the fact that I was quiet instead of boisterous, certainly God can know the same about my spiritual life.

 God, the Father of spirits, made all kinds of personalities.  And because He made them, he accepts them—just look at the apostles and all their differences.  If He will accept that varied crew, He will accept my worship, even if it is quiet and restrained, as long as my emotion and intent are sincere and obedient.

 Nowadays it seems people are quick to judge others as less thankful, less sincere, and less loving if they sit quietly and say little aloud about their feelings.  This psalm says it isn’t so.  If I sit quietly in the corner waiting for my master’s smallest cue, I may, in fact, be a whole lot more likely to see it than someone who can’t sit still long enough to notice, or be quiet long enough to hear someone besides himself. 

 We are all different, yet God accepts all worship that is “in spirit and in truth,” the brash, the boisterous, even the analytical and the subdued.  Perhaps our judgments of one another should be more subdued as well.

But let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious,1 Pet 3:4.

Dene Ward

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!  Psalm 107:1

            Have you ever had a friend who made you wonder how you would be greeted and treated on any particular day?  Have you ever had a boss who one minute nominated you for employee of the year and the next left you in fear of losing your job?  Have you yourself ever woke up one morning and bitten everyone’s head off just for being alive and daring to smile?

            Moody people are difficult to deal with.  You never know how to act.  You never know what to say and not to say.  In fact, you do your best to avoid people like that if at all possible.  And when you recognize that you have done it to others, you loathe yourself for it.  It isn’t right; it isn’t fair; it certainly isn’t kind.

            This brings me to the verse at the top, a promise we all too often read without thinking, as if it were a meaningless refrain.  “His steadfast love endures forever.”  It isn’t just that God will love us forever, though that is reason enough to praise Him.  That word “endure” also carries with it the idea that His love is consistent and will never waver.  You will never find God in a bad mood. 

            You don’t have to worry that one day He has a headache and might be a little short-tempered.  He won’t ever get up on the wrong side of bed and snap at you because you dared to talk to Him before He had His morning cup of coffee.  He won’t decide on a whim one morning to hand you a pink slip.  God’s love is consistent—nothing can cause it to vacillate as long as you serve Him with all your heart.

            If we truly want to be more like Him, we should love Him the same way—whether the day brings good or ill, whether we feel well or not, and even when we suffer.  It’s not like He didn’t suffer for us, and not only did His love not waver then, it is precisely because of His unwavering love for us that He suffered.

            And if we want to serve Him, maybe we should do our best to get past those bad moods we foist on others.  There is no excuse for pettiness, for mean-spiritedness, for spite and malice, no matter what we are going through at the time, certainly not because we just happen to be in a bad mood that day.  As servants, we don’t have the right to be in a bad mood--we must be in the mood to love and serve Him every day, which means, according to Matthew 25, loving and serving others that way. 

            Unwavering, eternal love—that’s what He gives, and that is what we should return. 

Love is patient and kind…it is not arrogant or rude. It is not irritable or resentful… 1 Cor 13:4-6.

Dene Ward

When I was very small, my favorite song was “Wake Up, Little Susie.”  I am probably dating myself with that admission.  In case you are from a different generation, the song was about a young couple who fell asleep during their movie date, and were afraid of what people might think. 

            Psalm 103 is David’s version of the song—one he is singing to himself.  Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! ​Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, vv 1-2.  I found it difficult to see that “wake up” admonition, I admit.  But every commentator I checked, five of them, saw it clear as a bell.  One likened it to Psalm 42:5:  Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.  That one is much easier to see.  Why are you so depressed, he asks himself, when you have the salvation offered by God?  Now look again at 103:  Bless the Lord…and forget not his benefits.

            For isn’t that exactly what we do?  We go along in our ordinary, normal lives, nothing important happens, nothing exciting happens, and we become complacent in our service and even a little despondent in our ordinariness, and forget what God has done for us.  But just think about this morning.  You woke up in your comfortable bed (check) in your comfortable house (check), possibly next to your beloved (check).  You ate a breakfast from a pantry and refrigerator full of possibilities (check).  You stood in front of a closet and chose from among all those clothes what you wanted to wear (check).  You might have gotten in your car (check) and driven to school or work or the store without mishap (check).  How many blessings is that already that you never even noticed?  How many more will you receive the rest of the day, and still not notice?

            “Forget not his benefits!” David reminds himself—and later on the people of Israel, and ultimately us.  Why is it that when something bad happens we will blame God, but never think to give Him credit for all the good we enjoy nearly every single minute of the day?  “Wake up and praise the Lord!”

            And then there is this:  while God gives us brethren to encourage us, David shows us that in the final analysis, we are responsible for our own rousing.  We cannot blame the church, we cannot blame the elders, we cannot blame our families if we fall into hopelessness and despair—it’s my business to see myself clearly, to notice when I need a nudge or a prod or even a kick in the rear.  And after I have awakened, then I will follow David’s example of leadership and wake others too. 

            Which is what this has been, I hope—wake up little Susie, or Joey, or Charlie, or Cathy, or whatever your name may be.  Do not forget the benefits of being God’s child.  Always count your blessings, no matter how trite that may seem.  David did.  He’s not a bad leader to follow.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change, James 1:17.

Dene Ward

I think there is a part in all of us that wants to show off for our parents.  Over the last several years, I have gotten into distance swimming as an exercise routine.  I swim across a cove and back on the island every couple of days, roughly 0.7 mile.  Nobody in my family had ever seen me swim it.  None of us had ever been big swimmers until I stumbled into it.  So, when Mom and Dad came to visit late last October, I drug them to the beach.  (It was my day for swimming.  I had gotten to the point that if I missed, I got antsy, but there was a big part of "Look at me, Mommy and Daddy!" in it.)  I swam a longer route than usual, nearly 0.9 mile, and Mom and Dad were appropriately impressed.  (No, they didn't give me a lollipop.) 

Dad asked something regarding my concern about getting into trouble while swimming.  I grinned and said, "I don't get into trouble in the water."  His response was, "That's a dangerous attitude."  I completely understand his point.  Cockiness in dangerous situations is stupid and leads people into serious injury and death routinely.   And, make no mistake, open water swimming has dangers.  The Gulf of Mexico is not a big pool, as several tourists find out to their dismay each year.  Even the intercoastal waterway, which is where I usually swim, has tidal currents, wind driven chop that can get dicey, and aquatic wildlife that can range from cute, to annoying to truly dangerous.  Dad, however, had misunderstood my statement.  

You see, people don't drown because they get out over their heads and can't swim back.  People drown because they panic, then exhaust themselves flailing about, and then begin to despair.  It is almost like giving up and allowing oneself to go under.  Almost everyone can float.  Stay calm, roll over on your back and float.  While doing so, think.  How are you going to get back?  Then implement your plan, resting occasionally as needed.  The key is to stay calm.  I routinely go out a hundred yards or so on the days in between long swims and just practice being calm in the water.  I practice several different drown-proofing techniques.  I hang out in 8-10 feet of water for 45 minutes and learn to think of that as one of my natural environments.  Which is why when, on two occasions, my left shoulder just decided it was done for the day, I didn't drown.  I shrugged (one shouldered) and sidestroked to shore.  You see?  I don't get in trouble in the water, because no matter what happens, I can stay calm and handle it.  Which kind of reminds me of Psalm 46.  

1-3  "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah"

Do you ever feel like your world is falling apart?  In either your personal life or as you look around and don't recognize the country you grew up in?  Are there days you would be ready to swear that the earth is sliding into the sea?  Stay calm, because God is your refuge and strength.

6-7  "The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; He utters his voice, the earth melts.  The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah"

I know there are times when it seems that everyone is against us.  When standing for even the concept of truth, much less God's truth, seems to outrage the world.  Stay calm and keep swimming, because the LORD of Hosts, who can melt the world with the sound of His voice, is with us.  

Just like in open water swimming, panic and despair are what kills in our spiritual life.  We start to think that we just can't handle the bullying and ridicule anymore.  We just can't keep ourselves from the ever nearer and easier to achieve temptations of the world.   We just aren't going to make it, as the waves crash over our heads.  Stay calm.  Breathe and know that you can make it, not because you are such a great swimmer, but because God is right there with you.  He is your refuge, providing rest if you will just avail yourself of it.  He is your strength, to keep you swimming.  He is with you.  Stay calm; rely on Him, keep swimming.

Ps. 46:10  “Be still, and know that I am God."

Lucas Ward