Recounting the Deeds of the Lord

I was reading in the Scriptures this morning and came across these words in Psalm 78:

4 We will recount to generations to come
the praiseworthy deeds and the power of the Lord,
and the wonderful works he has done.


There is something powerful in the simplicity and strength of this statement. For me, it felt a little bit like marching orders for the people of God.


It was not just their calling to live their lives in constant awareness of God's goodness and mercy, and to respond to God in faith, but also to show their love for him and their place in his story by faithfully living out their commitment to him by sharing what God had done in their lives and in the world with the next generations.


Live in God's presence.
Respond to his grace and mercy.
Be thankful at all times.
Praise him for all he is and all he has done.
Praise him in front of your children, and your children's children.
Teach the next generations about who he is and what he has done! For you, for the world!


That is what I am hearing today, on a morning when I woke up tired (as always) and was asking the Lord for my "marching orders." I do that a lot these days, for the shape of my days look different than they used to. I have days when just getting through a few things that need to be done is all I can manage before it's time to topple over again, still exhausted.  I have days where I think small, remembering my many limitations. I think things like "all I can do today is stay upright, do a little housework, pay a few bills, teach a bit of school to my daughter, write a page or two, handle my medical appointments, try to eat..." (and many days, it's just a couple of the things on that list not all of them). I could add other mundane but important things to that list too...refill a medication, write a thank you note, send an update to my extended family, handle a load of laundry.


And of course, all of those things are necessary, they need to be done. On the most challenging days, I try to remember why I am doing small things, why I am continuing to battle for health and life (with the Lord's strength and in his rest). I am trying to plod along doing the small stuff, but I don't want to forget the big stuff, the overarching vision. Not just for my life, but for all our lives. I need to remember kingdom vision.


And what does that look like? Well, one facet of the kingdom is surely this.


We will recount to generations to come
the praiseworthy deeds and the power of the Lord,
and the wonderful works he has done.

(Psalm 78:4, BCP)

Or as Peterson puts is in the Message, "we're not keeping this to ourselves." God's goodness is meant to be shared!

What and Who Binds Us Together

I was reading along in one of the appointed Psalms this morning, Psalm 28. And I got to these words, which always delight my heart whenever I stumble upon them in the lectionary:



7 Blessed is the Lord! *
for he has heard the voice of my prayer.

8 The Lord is my strength and my shield; *
my heart trusts in him, and I have been helped;

9 Therefore my heart dances for joy, *
and in my song will I praise him.

10 The Lord is the strength of his people, *
a safe refuge for his anointed.

11 Save your people and bless your inheritance; *
shepherd them and carry them for ever.

Something struck me about those words this morning, and about my love for those words. It struck me that one reason I love the Psalms is because the writers of them, the people who prayed these words originally and wrote them down, often speak words that seem to transcend the centuries and differences of culture and just pour out of human longings that we still have in common with them today.

But just when I was feeling awed by that connection, what awed me even further was the realization that yes, we share the same longings, the same needs, the same joys, but we also share the same God. The one who heard the voice of that Psalmist's prayer? He is the one who hears the voice of my prayer today!

No wonder the communion of saints feels so tightly connected! We are connected by so many things! I sometimes imagine a golden cord that we all hold onto through the years, a cord that binds us all together and keeps us dancing in the same circle.  But the cord that binds us is not just one strand, is it? It's a thick cord of strands that includes the thickest, most golden truth of all: that we worship the same Lord, the one who made us, loves us, redeems us, and sustains us through his Spirit.

Put Your Trust in God (The Importance of Talking to Ourselves)

I was reading my morning psalm, Psalm 42, and remembering again the importance of talking to myself.

Talking to himself is exactly what the psalmist does here. He actually addresses his soul, his inmost, essential self:

"Why are you are full of heaviness, O my soul? and why are you so disquieted within me? Put your trust in God, for I will yet give thanks to him, who is the help of my countenance, and my God."

He addresses God in this psalm too ("I will say to the God of my strength, Why have you forgotten me? and why do I go so heavily while the enemy oppresses me?") but he addresses himself twice, asking the same questions of his soul both times...

 "Why are you are full of heaviness, O my soul? and why are you so disquieted within me?"

and then he gives his soul a talking to both times, with the same words:

"Put your trust in God, for I will yet give thanks to him, who is the help of my countenance, and my God."

This doesn't seem to be a mere poetic device, and the "your" in this psalm is definitely himself. He is talking to himself, reminding himself of the importance of putting his trust in God and giving thanks, remembering that it will be God who will lift up his head and help his countenance -- change the very look of his face!

I think this jumped out at me this morning because of a talk our family had in the car yesterday, while we were out running errands. The sweet girl had her iPod in the backseat, and told me with much real sweetness that I would be glad to hear she was listening to some Christian music. For a long time, she had gotten away from listening to Christian music, and when I asked her about that, she told me what she told us again yesterday....that during the past few months, and the worst part of my illness and treatment, she had a hard time listening to Christian music because it felt so encouraging and happy, and somehow during the hardest times, that felt a little fake to her. She felt sad, and she gravitated toward music that tended to be sad (which happened to be secular).

Laying aside for a moment any critiques we might make of Christian music for not giving us enough lament or blues (and I can think of some wonderful musicians who are Christians and do give us plenty of lament and honest complexity...Sara Groves is just one example of a musician who helped get me through this season) I appreciated my daughter's honesty about this.

But I also appreciated her dad's response yesterday, which pulls us right back to Psalm 42. He pointed out that sometimes when we're sad, when our souls are "heavy" within us, we need to talk to our souls. We need to remind our souls, our very selves, of the truth of God's goodness, and of our need to put our hope in him.

We had a good talk about that need to speak the truth to ourselves. I am thankful that both music and the Scriptures can help us to do that. And prayers. Sometimes we cannot find the words we need to speak to ourselves. We just don't have it in us, especially not during those sad and heavy times. But we can cling to the words that others have said, sung, and prayed down through the centuries.

And we can hold onto that hope, knowing it is real, even when everything around us and in us tempts us to fear instead, or to sadness and despair. 

I like how Eugene Peterson translated the "talking to himself" of the psalmist in 42:
Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
    Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God—
    soon I’ll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
    He’s my God.

And here's how Francesca Battistelli puts it (a singer my dear husband and sweet daughter introduced me to a couple of years ago). Note how she repeats that line "Put your hope in God." Not mere repetition for the sake of repetition. We need to keep telling ourselves, over and over, that no matter what, this is what we need to do. For he is faithful and trustworthy and worth holding onto. Even in the heaviest times. Especially in the heaviest times.

He never sleeps, He never slumbers
He's been awake at every hour
No tear catches Him by surprise
He's never lost, He never runs out
He never lives in the shadows of doubt
No fear catches Him by surprise

Find rest my soul
Put your hope in God
Put your hope, put your hope in God

He always is, He always will be
He always has been everything I need
How can this be catching me by surprise
He's ever strong, He's ever faithful
His love is real, now nothing is impossible
'Cause nothing catches Him by surprise

Find rest my soul
Put your hope in God
Put your hope, put your hope in God

I close my eyes, and I can see
The arms of mercy holding me
I close my eyes, and I can see
The arms of Jesus holding me

Find rest my soul
Put your hope in God
Put your hope, put your hope in God

Put your hope in God
Put your hope in God

Life Goes On

It's been a long time since I have managed a blog post. The past several weeks have been a long, exhausting blur. If I had to pick one word to describe them, it would probably be slog.

Having cancer is a terrible thing. Lots of well meaning people will tell you, when you have it, not to let it rob you of the things that matter, and it's true that attitude matters. But the plain fact is, being bludgeoned by serious illness and intensive chemotherapy just takes a lot out of you. It changes everything  - your body, your face, your daily routine, your relationships, your faith journey. It wears you out and wears you down. It makes you feel like a stranger to yourself sometimes.

I am tired on all sorts of levels today, and I am simply here to say sometimes it is okay to rage and okay to grieve. It's not giving too much power over to the reality; it's simply acknowledging that sometimes reality is just hard. Really, really hard. And while I am thankful for prayers, peace, love, and people who care - all part of this journey- I have days where I just need to say I am weary, and that is the truth. I have days where I need to say enough is enough, and I want healing, and "how long, Lord?" And to know it is okay to say those things and okay to cry and okay to want my life back.

Living in the Shadow

The Psalms keep singing their life into me each morning. Right now, I am doing a lot of singing and clinging through them.

Living in the shadow of death is part of the human condition. A cancer diagnosis brings that into sharper focus than usual. Living with intensifying pain does too. I am suddenly far more aware of my frailty and fragility. I am also far more aware of fear.

But thanks be to God, the shadow of death is not the predominant shadow we see in the Scriptures. When we abide in Jesus, the shadow we know most intimately is the shadow of his wings.

It's not that the other shadow isn't acknowledged. That's one of the beautiful things about God's Word. It tells us the truth, all of the truth, even the hard truth about suffering. But it doesn't stop with the hard word. It goes on to the gospel goodness of God's presence with his people from first to last, through every drop of suffering and difficulty.

It is God's presence that enables us to say that even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil. We are more aware of his rod and staff bringing us comfort.  (Psalm 23)

It is through the tender mercies of God that the sunrise breaks upon us, shining light even as we sit in the darkness and the shadow of death. He knows we need that light to live, and so that our feet will be guided in the path of peace. (Luke 1) 

And when we dwell in God's shelter, under his wings, we know protection, mercy, and grace. He covers us so that we do not have to keep our eyes on any other shadows, even the scariest ones. From Psalm 91:

1	He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, *     abides under the shadow of the Almighty.
2	He shall say to the LORD, "You are my refuge and my stronghold, *     my God in whom I put my trust."

3	He shall deliver you from the snare of the hunter *     and from the deadly pestilence.
4	He shall cover you with his pinions, and you shall find refuge under his wings; *     his faithfulness shall be a shield and buckler.
5	You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, *     nor of the arrow that flies by day;
6	Of the plague that stalks in the darkness, *     nor of the sickness that lays waste at mid-day.
7	A thousand shall fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand, *     but it shall not come near you.