I've been reading Psalm 119 a lot recently (maybe some of you have noticed). One theme that the psalmist returns to over and over is the theme of "being afflicted" or "being wounded" or "being brought low." Psalm 119 has become a roadmap for my emotions. As I consider how utterly desolate this ancient poet felt, how that resonated with Israel, and how Jesus of Nazareth must have personally connected with this Psalm, I am humbled. But I don't particularly care for being humbled. Being knocked off of my pedestal, being put in my place - reminded of who I am... those aren't things I sign up for. The funny thing is: I've always thought of myself as a pretty humble person. I don't ask for a lot. I don't…
I have stood at the coastline of the desert, that death-ocean of aimless repetition. How could you navigate it without a guide? https://bibles.org/eng-NIV/Ps/119/9-16
I climbed Kennesaw Mountain with my family this week. No big deal. It's not very tall. And we drove. We didn't really climb. But it was a difficult outing. Kennesaw Mountain is a Civil War battlefield. It was one of the last defensive positions in the Battle of Atlanta. I know the history. I've seen the reenactments. But I was unprepared for this day. Atop this hill of a mountain I started to explain to my 5-year-old boy where the canons were. I started to explain the troop movements, the exciting stuff. Then I was completely undone by a simple question: "But daddy...who were the bad guys?" I had never thought of how I would respond to this question. What would I tell my little boy? What did I actually…
The things I've quit, for petty reasons I'm ashamed to tell, are all forgiven by a quitless God, who still thinks I can. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ps.119.1-Ps.119.8&version=NIV
Loving a rejected God is nothing like accepting man-made congratulations. One of those never turns into a huffing, shaking head. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20118&version=NIV