Psalm 91 The Secret Place

This is the Psalm I meditated and prayed for over a year when I was sick. I prayed it also for my friend Connie who lived with the disease I was struggling with. I prayed for others whom my illness had all the sudden made me aware of. As I look at Psalm 91 today I see symmetry in its structure. There is a declaration of sorts that includes instructions, then a list of promises. I think it was the promises that attracted me to this Psalm when I was laid out on my bed and threatened with the implications of a serious auto immune disease. I wanted God to take me to a place when I could live, where the disease could not touch me. I felt worthless because a huge part of my identity was based on what I could do. I was an active mother of two very active boys. Whatever had overtaken me had devastated my world.

Then things changed. One day as I lay in bed I sensed Jesus sitting next to me on the side of my bed. He leaned over and oh so tenderly touched my forehead and told me I was of great worth to Him. He asked me to pray. I was to pray for other who struggled like I did. So I began to pray for those around me who I knew suffered from chronic debilitating diseases. I prayed for healing. Then I asked for prayer for myself and to be anointed with oil. When I was anointed I gave the disease to Jesus. The moment I did that I was filled with the Holy Spirit and knew God had heard and answered my prayer. My healing was something I would have to walk out. The Lord eventually told me when I finally accepted His healing in fullness that I would live as if I did not have the disease. I think the doctors call it remission. I have been in remission for over 10 years and healthier than I have been most of my life.

I think most believers are driven to the secret place when they are in distress. What I found when I was too weak to walk across the room was the shelter of the Most High God. Since then I know that the depth of my relationship with the Lord is directly proportional with the tests and trials in my life. We have traveled many places together. But I have recently been challenged to dwell in the secret place in a time of healing and restoration. I am in a good place and I want to make the secret place my home.

What do I need to do? Psalm 91 says:

¹ Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High (condition)
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. (promise)
² I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, (action)
my God, in whom I trust.” (declaration)

These first two verses are the solid foundation for the promises of God listed in the center verses of the Psalm. They are what the promises are built on. The idea is repeated in the center of the promises in the center of the Psalm in verse 9:

⁹ If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling…

Placing the promise in the middle of the Psalm gives the Psalm movement, an impetus to remind us and move us forward. It is like the writer is saying I want you to really see this. Put this in your spirit.

In the Psalm there are four different references to the name of God; Most High, Almighty, Lord and God.

I believe the Psalm is saying that we need to acknowledge God and the implications of His names.

In saying of Him that He is God Most High we acknowledge Him as Sovereign ruler over all the universe. He is the one who delivers us from the hands of our enemies, who rules over the affairs of man, whose dominion is everlasting. He is the ruler of our heart. He is Almighty God; El Shaddai, the most powerful and all sufficient God. He is the “pourer forth”, the God who pours Himself out for you. He is Lord; Jehovah, the self-existing one. He is life in its essence. He has always existed, the eternal God. He is God; ‘elohiym, the Creator. All things were created through Him and for Him. We are His creation, His workmanship.

He is the foundation of the promises He lays before us in His word. If we will acknowledge Him not just in our heart but in our declarations and our actions based on the knowledge of who He is, we will have what He promises. Psalm 91 should change our prayer life. It should change how we speak to others about Him. It should give us a place of security was we go out from our personal and corporate times of worship into the world with its many distractions.

The secret place although a place of refuge in times of distress has in its true purpose a place that elevates us so that we can go out into our daily life with His protection and provision. It is the idea of a dwelling place that shows us His shelter is not just for times of trouble. It is where we can live. If God is Lord, than He is life itself. What better place to dwell than at life’s source, in the presence of the all sufficient God. We were created to live in the secret place. It is where we find the source of life; our God in all His power and glory.

The Lord wants to give us what He promises, daily, in full measure; a good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over… poured into our lap. (Luke 6:38) There are twelve promises in Psalm 91. Twelve is a number of completion and perfection. The promises of God to a people who will love Him, acknowledge His name and make His shelter, the secret place their dwelling are almost unbelievable in their breath and measure. God will save us from trouble and sickness. He gives us shelter from life’s storms. He commands His angels to watch over us. They will lift us up in their hands. He rescues us. He protects us. He answers our prayers. He shows up when we are in trouble. He delivers us. He honors us. He gives us a satisfying and long life. He shows us His salvation that leads to eternal life.

Why does He do this? What does it say about the Our God? Psalm 91 closes with His motive. When we fulfill our part; love Him and acknowledging His name He moves on our behalf. We were created to have a relationship with the God of the Universe. When we move towards Him, He moves on our behalf.

When God moves on our behalf things change. We will not live in fear but in faith of a God who fights our battles and protects us and our family. The Most High God will deal of our enemies. We only have to watch. He will help us defeat the great enemy of our soul.

New Wine in New Wine Skins

Jesus answers the criticism of the Pharisees with an image. He speaks of new wine in new wine skins. Jesus in Luke 5:33-39 is defending his disciples by explaining the state of their spiritual development. The encounter Jesus has with the Pharisees and Teachers of the Law takes place at the beginning of his ministry, soon after he calls his disciples. These common men are new to the religious scene. They are new to the power of the Holy Spirit which they are being immersed in because of their close proximity to Jesus. They live with Jesus; walk with him daily and studying under him. Every day they receive powerful teaching and witness the miraculous. As a result their eyes are being opened to new spiritual realities including who Jesus really is. It is a powerful and exciting time for the disciples. In a very real sense they are new believers and are being used by God like never before. As they walk alongside Jesus they are also learning to walk in the power of God. The Pharisees and the Teacher’s of the Law do not comprehend the work that is being done within these simple men, so they criticize them saying, “Why don’t your disciples fast like we do or like the disciples of John the Baptist?”

Jesus uses two word pictures to answer them. He wants to emphasize the fact that his Heavenly Father wants to do something completely new. He explains that it isn’t appropriate to sew a new patch on an old garment, nor do you put new wine into old wine skins. The appropriate container for new wine is new wine skins. Jesus is stating the obvious and making the point that you don’t expect someone fresh in their walk with the Lord to have the outer discipline of the faith. Jesus is not condemning fasting and praying. He is just saying for the time and the season they are in it is in inappropriate. The time for fasting and prayer will come. Maturity will come and the product of maturity will be judged like aged wine, as being better; a wine with a smooth more satisfying taste.

The personal application for my life is clear; this is a new time and season in my life. It is a time of refreshment and an anointing of the Spirit like I have never experience before. My old life has fallen away. I need to let it go and embrace the new thing God is doing. I am unfamiliar with this walk. I am new to the working of the Spirit and the teachings in light of the work. I have a deep conviction that I am not to rely on what I know, but to learn anew. I am not supposed to try to fit this new life into my old life. My frame of reference based on past experience has to go. I can’t judge what he is doing now by the standard of the past. If I want to fully enter where the Spirit is leading me I must let go. With no expectations I wait so He can give me the best He has for me.

Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:18-19

Graduation

“I won’t know what to do with myself.”

My friend laughs. He knows me too well and smiles. This is an adventure already with lots of twists and turns. Next Saturday I walk the stage. Tonight I cross a threshold when I hand in my final exam and tell my professor this is my last class. She smiles and I cry as I walk in the cool dark air into the parking lot back to my car.

“I won’t know what to do with myself.”

I pray in the car on the way home and am grateful for the events that led me back to school, for the people who encouraged me and made a way. I am grateful I have persevered for 6 years and have finished with honors. I ask God what He wants to do with all this? What’s next?
For now, I just want to lean back, read a book of my choosing, finish some drawings, and learn to really use my camera, decorate the house for Christmas, and breathe deep. I know this is a gift from God, the whole thing. I have a better understanding how He has fashioned me during this time. I had someone whisper in my ear last weekend that my life is just beginning, get ready. I am ready to take off, to flourish and thrive. I am ready for what’s next. I am expectant.

Psalm 91

I have been telling people for the last few days that God is faithful and that I will be returning to work soon. In faith a gave Bryant more money for his mission trip to India. I said it was a faith builder for him and for me. He didn't know I was not working, he might not have agreed to come and pick up the cash. Instead he prayed for me. I sent a check for Colin's trip to Mexico. We are planning a celebration for when Scott gets in from Austin.

Not to presume... but if I go back to work it will not have set me back at all. In fact I will be better off. You do the math... I can't explain it or why when I got out of my car today I notice a car with the licence plate 91 PSLM as I was going into the building for an interview. And I knew the Psalm because I memorized it when I was ill and it was God's promise for provision and protection. No harm has come to me, God has provided.

So I am telling you... no harm has come to me. God will provide because I trust in Him.

Tonight

walking
makes me smile
even without the moon

coaxed
into singing
aloud in the dark

Assignment One: As Far Back as I Can Remember

Ketchup

Mrs. Barry has long slender legs and jet black hair. She is married to Captain Jack Barry who is an Air Force pilot. Mrs. Barry brought her soft southern accent all the way from Tallahassee to Ohio where the Captain is stationed. Suzie her youngest daughter is my best friend. Suzie inherited a full head of jet black curls from her mother along with her confidence. By four years old it is plain that I am inconquerorably shy and awkward. Mrs. Barry, Jackie, to her peers always frightens me a little with her directness, saying exactly what is on her mind.

My mother leads my sisters and I down the front porch stairs. The four of us are wrapped in our matching bathrobes and slippers. The four of us shuffle across the asphalt drive way across the grass, on to the Barry’s driveway, up to the front porch. Mrs. Barry is on the porch holding the screen door open. It is June and the air smells like roses. I enter the door, slip my slippers off and walk across the cool wooden floor planting myself on the couch next to Suzie. She leans close to me. Suzie’s older sister Lynn soon joins us. She is my oldest sister’s best friends. We are families of girls and very close. I am used to both my mother and Mrs. Barry watching us as we play outside or as we go house to house looking for something new and interesting to do. Cartoons are on and I don’t hear what my mother and Mrs. Barry are discussing. Instead I am mesmerized by the black and white images on the screen whose familiarity help me settle into what we know so far of moving day.

My mother leaves as the moving van pulls up to the front of our simple cracker box house tucked away in a cul-de-sac near the runway of the airbase. We have all grown accustomed to the sound of the planes taking off. We are even familiar with the crack above us as aircraft break the sound barrier. The cul-de-sac is our little world and the huge truck is rattling it by the front curve. At Mrs. Barry’s instructions I get up and come over to the door and peer out at the behemoth of a truck. With a clear strictness Mrs. Barry instructs us. “Girls you are not to go outside. The moving van is here. You may watch it from the door or at the kitchen window.”

I do not have an ounce of desire to move out from behind the screen door to encounter this truck that I see is being opened and readied to carry off all my things and take them to the new house. We only visit our mysterious new house in the dark by the light of my father’s flashlight. Every so often as it is being built we bundle up and are taken by car to this new destination after my father gets off work at the men’s clothing store he manages. It is always late night and pitch black. Our street begins where the farm land ends where cows graze in the fields by the dairy farm. My father lifts me up to the side door because the side steps are not yet in place. The new world of this house smells like fresh cut board. We walk through the skeleton of a room, the sky still in view through the rafters as we try to imagine our new rooms.

Mrs. Barry has been at work in her kitchen for about a half an hour when she calls us for breakfast. As I enter the sunny kitchen decorated with strawberry trimmings I see Mrs. Barry sticking toast into the shiny silver toaster. “Do you want blackberry jam with your toast,” she asks us.

“Yes, mame.” Suzie says. I imitate her reply. I do not have such formality with my mother, whose sweet disposition contrasts with Mrs. Barry’s directness. My mother accepts, “yes.” But I am afraid of being rude in Mrs. Barry’s house. I never want to be rude. So I follow Suzie’s cues in how to navigate politeness.

Mrs. Barry sets a plate of scrambled eggs, toast and jam and hash browns down in front of me. She asks concerning orange juice and I manage a “yes mame,” as she places a small strawberry decorated glass in front of my plate. I look up at Mrs. Barry’s lovely southern face and ask. “May I have some ketchup for my potatoes, mame?”

Mrs. Barry’s face lights up and with more passion than I think she means and asks, “Why child would use ruin my beautiful hash browns with ketchup?” With those words hot tears stream down my face, I cannot hold them in.

Mrs. Barry places a bottle of ketchup on the table, lifts me in her arms and holds me close as she walks over to the kitchen window. “Look Ruthie, there’s your mother. She’s been there all morning instructing the men on what to do.” Then she leans her face into my hair and whispers as she kisses my head, “I’m sure going to miss all my little girls.”

Sunday

I went to church today and was supposed to help in the kid's Sunday school. Scott came up to me and asked me if I was going to big church as we call it. I said no, I was helping in my class. He told me he was speaking. I thought in big church for a "few" minutes. I said I would try to pop in.
Ran into him again. Found out he was taking Steven's place preaching in the youth service.
We were well staffed so I played hookie from Sunday school and went to hear Scott teach.
It was really very good and OF COURSE I was very excited about it. He was passionate as he talked about being complacent.
Preach on!

perplexed

I am tired, near exhaustion. It is physical, mental and emotional.

verb
1. to cause to be puzzled or bewildered over what is not understood or certain; confuse mentally
2. to make complicated or confused, as a matter or question.
3. to hamper with complications, confusion, or uncertainty.
Synonyms:
1. mystify, confound. 2. tangle, snarl. 3. vex, annoy, bother.

John 14:1
Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.

Rest.

The wisdom of forgiveness

You can’t really understand forgiveness and what it cost until you have been given a very good reason not to forgive. People can do things that really shouldn’t be forgiven. They can do it in a way that shows they don’t have a clue as to why they need forgiveness. Most of the time they go merrily on their way seemingly unaffected and you are left holding the emotional baggage. Thinking… “what the heck was that all about… why did this person feel the need to ------- fill in the blank.”
We are in need of extending forgiveness because we shouldn’t be left holding the bag. Let it go. Easier said than done, believe me I know, but oh so worth it.

Forgiveness costs us. It cost us our comfort zone. I am comfortable living in the past remembering the bad things people have done. Maybe it makes us feel superior to people. See how rotten they are. Maybe it makes us feel important. Maybe we just can’t ignore the hurt that is caused as we remember a hurt. I have a friend whose husband asked for a divorce on Christmas day. That is what he wanted for Christmas. She has never told me, but I can imagine there is never a Christmas where there is at least the potential for reliving the pain of that day. All you need for that trigger is Christmas day.

Forgiveness costs us facing the pain, but doing it in a new way. Seeing it for what it is and choosing to let it go. There is a need for the supernatural element of prayer here. I do not believe we forgive naturally. It is against our nature. We forgive supernaturally, trusting that God will continue to do the good work in us.

Forgiveness costs us our comfort zone because it demands that we look at ourselves and see our part in the situation. It may mean admitting we are wrong too and in need of forgiveness ourselves. It costs us the discomfort of seeking reconciliation where possible. Reconciliation isn’t always possible, but one should be willing to allow God to work. If we are willing God will work.

When I was younger I was in a recovery group and we were studying the steps on making amends, just being willing to do what is needed on our part to make things right. Someone told how they owed someone money and had never intended to pay the person back. In their step study they became willing to pay back the money. They had not seen the person in years and didn’t know where the person lived. That week they stopped at a rest stop on I-95 and ran into the other man. My friend told the man he was in recovery and needed to make amends. He gave the money to the man he owed and asked for forgiveness.

That is being willing to make things right and God working. We all need that.

What forgiveness gives in return is a closer relationship to God and perhaps the other person. We are free from the burden that was not ours to carry. It allows God, not us, to discipline the person if they continue to sin. If in being forgiven the person changes his ways than we have been a witness for the Lord or have turned another brother from his sin. All reasons to rejoice. Nothing good comes from us setting ourselves up as judge. We stop the work of God in our lives and do not allow the Holy Spirit to work in the situation. We give non-believers an inaccurate picture of God.

But if we forgive… we set in motivation the Spirit of God to work.

In that God will bless.

From My Sister's Kitchen Window You Can See the Foot Hills

Psalm 121
A song of ascents.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

From my sister's kitchen window you can see the foothills of northern Alabama. When it rains the mist and clouds float over them in the most beautiful mysterious way. It is easy to imagine God is there breathing LIFE into life.

This Psalm became her Psalm when she was diagnoised with cancer. It will always be her Psalm in my mind. I have learned a lot about living with cancer from her.

I have learned a lot about living with cancer from my friend TJ who helps me understand my sister better. TJ wrote me last month to tell me he hasn't forgotten me. That is good to know.

Live life now the best you can. Breathe. Love. Learn.

forgiven...

Algebra Class Haiku

pink petals
a top
the puddle

rap
drowning out
the rain

the growing distance
between us
is all I have left

When Sunflower Bloom

that
yellow leaf
falls in my path

if I could
walk on
the golden water

fishing
up to
their knees

locust
shaken
in the tree line


I don't know if this is good haiku, maybe it resonates with you. It is the bike ride I took midsummer.

Out of Breath Under the Stars

Out of breath under the Stars are many thoughts and those that rise to the top of this stream of consciousness get out and we walk around it, observing the nuances… the stars twinkle and I think I see a satellite move across the sky. I ask why. I ask but first I confess to just not wanting to. I hurt. And I don’t want to hurt. But I see in me something raw and misplaced and I know it won’t make things easier for anyone. You… me… So I say I am sorry for saying no I won’t, I can’t. That is when the softness of the night floods through to the back of my mind to the top of my head to my toes. We touch me and you. You speak. You guide. You say it is easy; speak kind words, do good. I forget I struggle with trust and am drawn in to this plan spoken softly beneath the stars to me. I feel loved. Not hard. But gentle. I want to be like him. More. I want to let him fill me up instead of my plans and hopes. Let go of the harsh night with the fear of more than I can handle or want. It scares me to want anything.

Psalm 71

sleepless

then shapes now and set in motion what is...

twists and turns I've learned...

The Cost

Jesus told a parable about building a tower and then continued his exposition with an example based on war.

The Cost of Being a Disciple
Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:31-33

Last weekend we celebrated the Fourth of July and in doing so honored the brave men who have fought and died to establish and preserve our freedom. Last week my father attended a gathering of ex POW’s from WWII and the meeting was covered by my friend from high school Mary McCarty. She is a columnist at the Dayton Daily News my hometown newspaper. Mary wrote briefly about my father’s war experience. I have heard his story before. I have read his memoirs where he told more than he ever said, but it was through Mary’s eyes I saw something I had never seen before. I saw a strong young man emaciated to the weight of an adolescence girl who I knew as one who witnessed the holocaust. Sunday morning as I read Mary’s piece I saw him as one who experienced the holocaust and survived. I never put flesh on the reality he escaped when the Allied troop came and liberated him from death.

The cost of war…

A friend of mine recently posted a video by David Wilkerson on the cost of revival; anguish. Both these stories have resonated through my heart and mind over the Fourth stirring my emotions. When we seek revival we surely opt for combat. We need to count the cost before we commit. Revival will cost us. The video talked about the anguish over the lost that motivates us to go, tell and make disciples. The anguish that I perceive is the cost that obedience demands. There is no revival without anguish over the lost or complete obedience to the king. We die to the personal preferences that keep us complacent and keep us from the commitment needed for revival.

My son recently returned from a trip to Asia. I found a card among his belongings, a thank you note from the church there. As I picked it up and read the names a current went through my body as I thought of them, then the persecuted church and then the millions and millions of those who have never heard and I wept.

Play!

to work or play?