Friday the thirteenth? Thirteenth floor? Not a problem.
Black cat? Walk under a ladder? Broken mirror? I don’t give it a second thought.
I don’t keep wearing the same socks to keep a win streak going, either.
I’m not superstitious.
However, when someone says, “I hope it doesn’t rain!” I’ll catch myself responding, “Don’t jinx it!” As if the weather was subject to our random comments.
I’m not big on coincidences, either. I’m a logical thinker and like to investigate cause and effect. I have a pretty good handle on numbers and probabilities, too. Plus, my faith reminds me that God is still in control.
When I sat down to write my answer, I immediately thought, “Well, of course, a dog.” I’m a big dog fan. On further reflection, I am more like a bird.
I’m an early bird. I love getting up early. I love walking the dogs as the sun is coming up. And I want to sing just like the birds who are so vocal as the sun begins to touch the dark morning sky. It’s noisy just before dawn, and I love to whistle back to the owls, mourning doves, cardinals, bluebirds, and mockingbirds as best I can. They know I’m not really a bird. But it’s fun to join in their antiphonal call and response.
I also notice things. Birds are always watching. Their heads turn to watch me, notice me, and fly if I get too close. I like to watch. Observe. See who’s around. Notice what’s there and what’s not in the picture. Move from place to place. Watching. Singing. Flying.
And soaring. I don’t relate to just be any bird. Hawks and eagles circle from above and get to see everything below. What a vantage point! I could see so much from up there. I would love to ride the updrafts with them.
I love dogs. And I would be a good dog. But I’m more like a bird. Does that count as an animal?
I’ve walked by people who sounded like they were talking to themselves. Then I see their air pods and I realize they were having a conversation on their phone.
Well, I don’t own any air pods. If I sound like I’m talking to myself, I am. And now that I’m thinking about it, I talk to myself a lot.
What do I say? O, things like
“I’m not going to do that again.”
“Come on, you can do better than that.”
“Relax. They aren’t worth it.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Just shut up and listen.”
“I knew they were going to say (or do) that.”
“This is going to take forever.”
In Psalm 110, we hear God talking to himself. Yahweh speaks to the Lord (Adonai), “Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool.” (Psalm 110:1) Later he adds, “You are a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” (v4).
I think it’s fascinating to eavesdrop on the triune God. He talks to himself about some amazing stuff. He talks to himself about authority, victory, sacrifice, and grace. His words are all about who he is and what he does. God is victorious, omnipotent, interceding, and eternal.
Have you ever had to shut someone down by saying, “I wasn’t talking to you”? Sometimes God isn’t talking to you, either. But it’s okay to listen in. I don’t think he minds. Besides, you might just learn something.
I’m not much of a shopper. I’m more of a buyer. When I walk into a store, I’m on a mission. I have a list. I get what’s on my list. I check out. And then I go home.
However, I can see myself “spreeing” in a place with a vast assortment of food and drinks. (Is that even a word?) It could be a row of food trucks, vendors booths, or free samples at Costco. That’s where I would spend a lot of time and money.
I can picture myself wandering from barbecue to pizza, asian and creole, and then to baked goods and ice cream. In between, how about a soft pretzel or nachos? Sample craft beers and whiskey. No huge platters or meals. Let’s do small portions of many different tastes.
Instead, I have a suffix. I am the third, named after my father and my grandfather. Since
The absence of a middle name causes plenty of consternation among those who like to fill in all the boxes. Some have filled in III as my middle name. I once used Q as a middle initial when I needed three letters for a login. NMI is another popular choice.
Since my dad died, I don’t use III after my name very often. It still shows up on tax forms and passports. But it’s not on my driver’s license. Some like to include it on certificates. They can’t spell or pronounce my last name, but they love the suffix.
I do not meet many who share my lack of a middle name. Many even give their pets middle names. I enjoy that uniqueness. I also love to ask those who like my suffix, “What was my father’s name?” And then, “What was my grandfather’s name?” Some get it. Others are confused. I just chuckle.
David might have written Psalm 56 when he was a prisoner of war. Or he might have been reflecting on his experiences later in life. Either way, I paused when I came across these words:
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? (Psalm 56:8)
What does it mean to have tears in a bottle? This is actually the only place in scripture where the word bottle is used. My mind wonders, “What is a bottle of tears?”
Here’s what I learned. It expresses remembrance. God knows and cares about me and my tears, as if he kept them in a bottle. He never says, “Get over it.” Instead he says, “I know.” “I get it.” “I understand.”
Most people really don’t care about how I feel. They are concerned about my performance. They care about the bottom line (money). They care about what I can do for them.
God cares about me. He cares about you. He cares about how you feel, about your joys, your grief, your worries, and your dreams. In fact, no one cares about you more than he does.
Your tears are precious to him. He loves to hear you laugh. In response to your worries, he says, “I’ve got this.” When you are so angry you could spit, he reassures you, “Been there. Done that.”
Best promise of all? It’s at the end of the bible: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4). He knows. He cares. He comforts.
When we arrived, our most recent Airbnb host wrote, “A 5-star rating is VERY important to us and goes a long way to helping our family business.” After we checked out, he begged, “Hey Mr. Bill would truly appreciate a 5 star ⭐️ review from you as that helps our family business out tremendously!”
I get it. People read reviews. Five out of five stars? Good product, good seller, good experience. But if you have to beg for a good rating, does it mean anything?
A couple of months ago I bought a new car. I bought other cars from this salesman and always had a good experience. But as we got ready to drive off, he said, “When you get the survey, be sure to give me a ten. I am almost in the top three.”
Reviews don’t mean anything if we simply give excellent feedback every time. I told my last Airbnb host, “I’ve stayed in many five star places. If you want a five star review…” and I listed out my suggestions. I decided I’m not going to give an excellent review unless you merit it.
The real deal? Most products and people don’t really deserve more than three out of five, or a 6 out of 10. Few products are worth the money. Few people go above and beyond. The world is average. Maybe. To be honest, most of the world is below average. Not even three (out of five) stars.
You want a five-star review? Four star? Earn it. Convince me. Persuade me. Don;’t command me. Or beg me. Give me a reason.
O Lord, God of vengeance, O God of vengeance, shine forth! Rise up, O judge of the earth; repay to the proud what they deserve! (Psalm 94:1,2)
He will bring back on them their iniquity and wipe them out for their wickedness; the Lord our God will wipe them out. (Psalm 94:23)
The imprecatory psalms are one of my guilty pleasures. In those psalms, the writer asks God to give the bad guys, whoever they are, exactly what they deserve. Which is what we all want, right? We want those who have hurt us to pay for their actions.
We don’t like to admit this, though. It doesn’t feel very Christlike. After all, Jesus told us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. I’m pretty sure he didn’t want us to pray that they would be wiped out.
Yet that exactly what the psalmist does. However, maybe this is a good prayer to pray or song to sing. It takes the idea of vengeance out of my hands and leaves it with God, where it belongs.
And here’s a sobering thought. Maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there who’s praying this about me. Whether I’m aware of it or not, I’ve hurt, neglected, ignored, dismissed, and snubbed someone who would like to see me get a taste of my own medicine. Is there anyone praying that I be wiped out?
I don’t like that side of the psalm, either.
I guess the best thing to do is go ahead and pray this psalm. Get it out of your system. Then be thankful your God is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He understands how you feel. Don’t worry. In the end, he’ll take care of everything, including you.
God has a lot to say in scripture. However, he speaks to people, not to the creation.
But the psalmist mentions the Lord rebuking water (Psalm 104:7), which reminds me of Jesus calming the wind and the sea with a simple command, “Peace! Be still!” (Mark 4:39)
Are there any other instances where God speaks to his creation?
Jesus curses a fig tree on his way to Jerusalem before his crucifixion (Matthew 21:19).
God commands the seas and how far they can come up on shore (Job 38:11). He commands the morning, too, giving instructions to the dawn (Job 38:12). In that same chapter, God implies that he can speak to the clouds so that they release their moisture (Job 38:34).
God tells the prophet Ezekiel to speak to mountains, birds, and beasts on his behalf, but not directly in those passages. He tells Moses to speak to a rock, so that it will give up water for the people. (Moses makes a big mistake and hits it instead.)
That’s all I could find. God speaks creation into existence. He speaks to his people in many and various ways through prophets and ultimately his son, Jesus. But he doesn’t often speak to the creation which is waiting for Christ’s return (Romans 8).
I talk to inanimate objects. (Don’t you?) I usually speak in an unkind way, though, because they aren’t doing what they are supposed to do. I get very short with a car that won’t start, a plant that won’t grow, a smoke alarm that starts chirping in the middle of the night, or a toilet that won’t flush. Nothing responds to my voice, no matter how much I rant.
The sea and the wind. The fig tree withered up and died. Creation obeys him without question. I’m not as responsive. God has to repeat himself a few times before I pay attention.
Waite for it... 