Your children will be like olive shoots around your table (Psalm 128:3).
When we went to Israel in 2019, our tour guide’s husband owned an olive grove. Since olives are mentioned often in scripture, we took a side trip one day to see a real olive farm.
Our guide made sure we saw shoots growing up from the base of an olive tree. They would soon be trimmed away. But she said, “Look, it’s just like the psalm: olive shoots around the table.”
I loved that moment when ancient words suddenly came to life before my eyes. All of my children have children, olive shoots around their table. And now I understand what a blessing that is. Who knew grand parenting would be such a blessing?
Sometimes you just know. You just know what someone is going to say.
The gate agent at the airport has just announced a full flight. But I ask if we can seats together. It never hurts to ask, and once in a great while, they can do it. But most of the time, they say, “I’m sorry, it’s a full flight.”
When you call up to cancel a subscription – assuming you can get an actual person to talk to – they offer you something to keep you subscribed.
The standard response to “Thank you” is “No problem.” Not, “You’re welcome.” Unless you’re at Chick-fil-A, and there the response is, “It’s my pleasure.”
As the barber struggles to run a comb through my thick mane, he or she always says, “Wow, you’ve got a thick head of hair!”
When I call the vet, the friendly tech answering the phone says, “Can I put you on hold?”
On a walk through the neighborhood with my Great Dane, I always hear, “Is that a horse?”
My day is filled with predictable responses. This is not a new idea. It’s in the bible.
“Before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it” (Psalm 139:4).
God knows exactly what you’re going to say. He knows before you do. Yes, he knows you that well.
That’s an interesting dynamic, isn’t it? You pour out your heart in prayer, you enumerate all the things you’re thankful for, and you bring your whole prayer list to God, and his response could be, “I knew you were going to say that.”
So why pray? Part of our faith is conversation. We converse with a God who speaks. We are people who respond. Of course we’re not telling him anything he doesn’t know. But we need to talk to him. It reminds us who he is. It brings to mind what he does and can do. It makes us aware of his presence. It’s part of being created in his image. In the beginning God spoke, so we speak, too.
I like the truth that God knows. He knows what I need and what I think I need. He knows where I am. He knows where I’m going even if I’m not certain. He knows me better than I know myself!
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.
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.
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.
When the author of Psalm 92 praises the Lord, it is for his love and faithfulness, the works of his hands, and divine protection and strength. Then he adds,
“You have poured over me fresh oil” (Psalm 92:10).
In the Old Testament, oil is used to anoint or consecrate priests and kings. It is a way of showing everyone that the people in those positions have been set apart by God for a particular purpose.
The image of “fresh oil” is a daily reminder that a new batch of God’s morning mercies await as we begin the day. Just like daily bread and a daily resolve to follow Jesus, there is a plan and purpose for our day. The God who was, who is, and who is to come redeems our past, guarantees our future, and blesses this moment in time.
Your car’s engine doesn’t run as well on old oil. Forgotten vegetable oil in the pantry goes rancid. How long has that oil been in the fryer? It looks disgusting.
What a blessing to have some fresh oil from God each day. His word refreshes our souls with new daily reminders of his forgiveness, his promises, and his purposes for our lives.
Kids grow up in the blink of an eye. Waiting an hour to see the doctor seems to take forever. Time is a curious thing. It may zip by or it may drag.
I would imagine that time dragged for Moses in the wilderness. Psalm 90 is attributed to him. Forty years out in the middle of nowhere. He tries to keep it in perspective.
For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night. (Psalm 90:4)
It’s easy for God. From the perspective of eternity, a thousand years seems like yesterday. A single shift at work.
Our seventy or eighty years seems like a long time on the front end. But “they are soon gone,” and at the end of life, you wonder where the time went.
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)
It’s a learning curve to keep things in perspective. Our lives on earth are finite. Our lives with the Lord will last forever. Those two realities rattle around in our minds. Mortality and eternity.
That awareness gives us wisdom. The wisdom to enjoy this moment. The wisdom to remember life up to this point. The wisdom to keep eternity in mind. The one “who was, who is, and who is to come” enables us to live in all three dimensions without skipping a beat.
The watch on my wrist dictates much of my day. But it doesn’t define my life. The Lord does.
While in Texas, we took four grandchildren to lunch at Panera last week. Tw o of them had bowls of soup, one had the macaroni and cheese, and the fourth went with grilled cheese.
I couldn’t believe how slowly they ate! It took every bit of forty-five minutes for them to enjoy a nice relaxing lunch. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve just never seen anyone eat a potato chip in six separate bites. I grab a few and pop them in mouth. Rather than a whole spoonful of soup, which wasn’t that hot, the olders scooped very small amounts of soup with their spoons. Mac and cheese? One small noodle at a time. Unless she decided to eat that noodle in three bites.
We weren’t in a hurry, had lots of things to talk about, and enjoyed our time together. Afterwards, we headed towards a Target to pick up a few things. As we approached the turn in, I saw two banged up cars waiting for the police to arrive. A minute sooner and it could have been us. I said, “I’ll never again complain about lunch taking so long.”
The psalmist writes
He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone. (Psalm 91:11,12)
Forget about a guardian angel. I’m thankful for a bunch of them taking care of me. And here’s the fascinating thing. Most of the time, I’m not even aware of their presence and protection. The bad stuff that could have happened doesn’t. So I go on with my life, oblivious to their efforts.
In the bible, angels sing, deliver messages, praise God, fight battles, and take care of us in ways we can hardly understand. Thank you, Lord, for letting us linger over lunch.
Waite for it... 