How lovely is your dwelling place,
LORD Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God. Psalm 84:1-2, NIV*
This psalm opens with a progression: it’s not just the Temple courts the writer craves, it’s the Presence in that sacred space.
A few of the late April readings in Oswald Chambers’ classic My Utmost for His Highest touch on the danger of desiring the experience of God or the blessings from God instead of desiring God Himself.
A holy hush in the sanctuary, a strong spiritual experience, God’s tangible touch on our lives—these are wonderful gifts we need to receive with praise. But they’re evidence of His glory, they’re not the ultimate desire of our spirits.
If you make a god out of your best moments, you will find that God will fade out of your life… until you have learned not to be obsessed with those exceptional moments He has given you. Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, April 25
Holy and loving God, because of Jesus Christ our Saviour we can come into Your presence, and Your Holy Spirit dwells in us and makes us His Temple. Give us a thirst for closer relationship with You, a hunger for more than Your blessings—a hunger for You alone.
When our ancestors were in Egypt, they gave no thought to your miracles; they did not remember your many kindnesses, and they rebelled by the sea, the Red Sea. Yet he saved them for his name’s sake, to make his mighty power known. Psalm 106:7, NIV*
The Israelites often looked at their troubles and forgot to look at God. We do the same, and we have the Bible and the Holy Spirit, so I’m not pointing fingers.
But we need to remember and be mindful of the majesty of God, of His vastness and His glory. His miracles. If nothing else, it puts life in perspective.
Yes, He gives us tender, personal gifts. His kindnesses. Things like a blooming flower or a bit of music that seem tailored to bless just one spirit. They root us in awareness of His love for us, and that’s a good thing.
The danger of intimacy is when our thoughts try to bring God down to our level. He’s so close, so real. But we need to look at His larger-scale acts and works too.
It’s about balance.
We need intimacy with God and holy awe of His majesty.
It’s all to keep us praising. Worshipping. Living in obedience and trust.
God who formed the universe, who numbers the stars in the sky and the hairs on our heads, You are majestic in holiness, far beyond our comprehension. Yet You love us and woo us into a personal relationship. Help us to know and rely on Your love for us, and help us develop a confidence in You and a holy awe of You. Help us know You as both King and Abba—Daddy—Papa.
Blessed are those whose strength is in you [God],
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools. Psalm 84:5-6, NIV*
Psalm 84 is a homesick heart’s cry to be near to God in His house—the Israelites’ Tabernacle, or maybe the Temple itself. It’s one of those psalms many of us know well.
This time I read it, the word pilgrimage caught my notice. From the context, the psalmist is probably writing of a literal journey.
For me reading it today, it resonates in a different way. Christians, with the Holy Spirit dwelling in us, are told that our bodies are the temple of God. We’re not on pilgrimage to God’s Temple, but we’re on pilgrimage with God through our days.
We’re not to ignore our surroundings or our neighbours’ pain, but to spread His blessings to others. On our own, we can’t do much, but God’s strength in and through us can make a difference in the lives around us.
Father, grant us hearts set on pilgrimage with You, knowing we’re bound for Heaven but charged with spreading Your light while we’re here. Help us find our strength in You, and let us leave each day a little better than we found it. Because of Jesus.
The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23, NIV*
I’ve been working through Beth Moore’s A Woman’s Heart workbook with my Bible study group at church. Right now we’re looking at the detailed instructions from God—to be followed to the letter—for preparing and consecrating the Tabernacle and its contents and the priests and their garments.
What stands out to me today is the seriousness involved in making a space where God could dwell among humans and not destroy them. Chapters upon chapters in Exodus and Leviticus deal with the construction and consecration of the Tabernacle and the procedures for offering acceptable sacrifices.
It’s just a glimpse of how holy God is, how different from us. Obedience meant the Israelites could see His glory, could be near Him.
The majestic God of Hosts is dangerous. Fearsome. Not to be trifled with.
Yet, He loves us and wants to be with us.
When we forget His power, and focus on the privilege of our access to Him through Jesus, we can forget how strong He is, and end up worrying about our circumstances.
Father, yes we praise You for making a way that we can come freely to You because of the blood of Jesus. Forgive us when we forget Your strength. Help us know and rely on Your presence with us, You who are mighty to save.
Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here. I have not come on my own; but he sent me. … He who belongs to God hears what God says. The reason you do not hear is that you do not belong to God.” John 8:42 & 47, NIV*
This group of Jewish listeners thought Jesus was saying they weren’t legitimate children in the line of Abraham—but He took it farther than that. He called them children of the devil.
Not that they were particularly evil or nasty, but that they couldn’t receive the truth and were naturally inclined to sinful behaviour.
In short, they were human. Children of the Fall, tainted by Adam’s and Eve’s disobedience.
Just like us.
But these were people who believed Jesus’ words (at least until this point). This conflict grew from His offer to set them free. “Who, us? We’re not slaves! The nerve of You!”
He wasn’t blaming them for not being able to hear. He understood the problem and that’s why He came to solve it. He was offering spiritual rebirth, the chance to actually hear God again. To belong in relationship with Him. To be adopted into His family.
We can have that. What could be worth more?
I don’t often hear Him in my spirit, and I’ve never heard Him audibly, but I know I belong. To Him, with Him, because of Him. He gives meaning to my life.
Creator God, because of Jesus I can call You Father. Because of Your Spirit in mine, I’m connected with You. You know what a deep need this meets, because You designed me this way. In Jesus You have accepted me. You’ve welcomed me. I am at home in You. I belong.
∞
This week’s song is Kathryn Scott’s “I Belong”. Beautiful song, with some beautiful images in this video.
Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. Psalm 103:2, NIV*
I was thinking in last week’s post, “Missing the Inheritance,” about how as Christians we often don’t realize what we have in God’s Kingdom. Peter says we have everything we need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3), and sometimes we live like miserable creatures with little hope and less resources or joy.
That’s a sad truth, and we do need to learn to appreciate and accept all that our Father lavishes on us when He adopts us as His own, but as Jenny from Captured by Godcommented last week, that’s not the ultimate focus.
The best gift God gives us is relationship with Himself. If we can’t delight in Him, we won’t gain much from the other benefits of being His children. We probably won’t even notice many of them.
God… the God of the universe, Creator, Sustainer, Rescuer… loves us and longs to spend time with us. And we come asking for endless lists of things, or complaining, or fretting. Or we’re like the prodigal son’s elder brother, too busy working for his father to spend time with him.
Father God, I’m so thankful You’ve made a way for us to be reconciled to You, to be Your children. Thank You for caring for us and inviting us to bring You our concerns and needs. Please forgive us for the times we stop there, or we don’t leave our work long enough to talk with You. Please quiet our spirits and teach us the delight of abiding in You. Help us learn to recognize and rest in Your presence as we go about our days. Help us delight in You.
Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’
This is the tail end of the Prodigal Son story. The stray son has come home repentant, and the father has thrown a party. Enter the older brother, wondering what the commotion is about. When he finds out, he’s angry. It’s not fair.
And it isn’t.
It’s merciful, extravagant… love. It’s a perfect picture of the God who shatters the boundaries we like to put up, who doesn’t write people off the way we do. The God of second chances.
Over the years I’ve come to appreciate grace enough to delight in the younger son’s reconciliation with his father. But I still felt the responsible son hadn’t been treated well. Not even one measly goat for a pot-luck with his buddies!
It hit me the other day – did he ever ask?
Listen to him: “All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders.” Is that what the father truly wanted?
Hard work, sure, but how about partnership? Working for the good of the family farm (and fortune). It would be his someday, as firstborn, but he wasn’t seeing his inheritance. Only his obligation.
Maybe I ought to give the black sheep son more credit. Sure, he made stupid choices, but at least he understood he had an inheritance.
I hear great sadness in the father’s response to his elder son’s anger. Maybe it’s not only sadness that his firstborn can’t see the joy of restoration. Maybe it’s also for a young man who’s missed the joy of sonship and settled for a servant’s role.
I’ve been feeling a bit frazzled this week, anxious about a few things even though I’m sure God will work them out. I’ve been praying about them, but the waiting to see God work them out has stressed me.
Monday’s post on the Captured by God blog, “Seek God First,” reminded me how we can slip into desiring what God will do more than desiring Him for who He is. Praying about it this morning, my thoughts kept circling. How can I come back to that intimacy with God as God, and leave my concerns in His hands?
The harder I try, the harder it gets. But as I was telling Him how helpless I am to do this, a verse from the other day came to mind: “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us – whatever we ask – we know that we have what we asked of him.” (1 John 5:14-15, NIV)
That stopped me. Lots of times I’m not sure if what I want to ask is His will, but this is a no-brainer. He wants me to come to Him like a child, in trust and confidence, just to be with Him. That’s what the Gospel is about: restoring relationship with God.
So I’ve asked, and I can be confident it’s His will. And I can trust that the Holy Spirit is interceding where my words aren’t enough.
My spirit is still, hope has returned, and I feel better already just from the stillness and the promise that God will draw me back to Himself.
Yesterday I was praying to see glimpses of God taking care of me, so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. Today I just want to see glimpses of Him—just to know He’s near.
Father, I love You. Thank You for Your grace, Your love and Your mercy to your scatter-brained and easily-distracted child. Draw me close to You.
“But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
“He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7-8 (New International Version) (NIV)
Jeremiah means both men and women, of course. We’re planted, alright, but the busyness of life can leach our focus off of God. Sunday morning worship ….
In North American society, it feels like we go to church for a serving of spiritual teaching but then head back into daily life. Life which, no matter how wonderful, can wear us down. I don’t know about you, but before too long I’m battle-weary and drained. I’d love to spend hours alone with God, or immersed in a Bible study or inspirational book, but the time isn’t there.
Most days, I crawl into wakefulness early so I can have time with God before the world starts its demands. I love my sleep, but it’s a necessary sacrifice. Still, I long for more. I miss the close times with the LORD. My hope with this blog is to share a little encouragement once or twice a week, a spiritual snippet to re-energize us.
