Bible Prophecy can read like a dream—you see elements that do not add up but clearly stand for something. There may be cause-and-effect problems. Words and scenes feel out of context. It can be baffling.
Bible prophecy is not written in the linear, logical fashion to which Western readers are accustomed. This is not a geometry proof nor a logical syllogism.
A plus B may not equal C.
Yet if you read prophecy loosely, analyzing it with the scrutiny you might apply to a dream, an understanding emerges. Read Bible prophecy as a series of pictures rather than a series of arguments. Unlike so much Biblical literature, prophecy does not build an argument brick-by-brick, stacking premise upon premise, persuading a reader to accept a conclusion. Instead, prophecy presents a series of pictures, and the conclusions take care of themselves.
Isaiah 17 prophecies destruction for Israel. The back story is that Israel and Damascus (Syria) had attacked Judah. For that, God will send Assyria to punish Israel and Damascus. Consider the following paraphrase of Isaiah 17. This series of pictures indicates exactly what the future holds for Israel:
Behold Damascus is wiped out. It shall be a ruinous heap. A pile of broken stones. And the glory of Jacob shall be made thin. The fatness of his rich flesh shall wax lean as a starving man—like one of his starving brothers he attacked in Judah. Israel’s reapers shall enter the fields to harvest, but find no grain to reap, Isaiah 17:1-4.
Yet God will not leave His people hopeless. A few gleaning grapes shall be left in the valley. They will shake the olive trees and find two or three olives in the uppermost boughs. Four or five of the outermost branches will remain fruitful. There will be something. Not nothing. And that day shall a man of Israel look to his Maker and his eyes shall have respect for the Holy One of Israel, Isaiah 17:5-7.
Then I heard a loud voice from heaven condemn the nation that attacked Israel. ‘Woe to the Assyrian multitude! Woe to the numberless, countless crowds, the hundreds of thousands who make a noise like the noise of the seas, that make a rushing like the rushing of many waters. God shall rebuke them. They shall flee on the wind like tumbleweeds, like a rolling thing before the whirlwind,’ Isaiah 17:12-13.
When I first opened Isaiah 17, I read it several times unsure what it had to offer. Then I reviewed Matthew Henry’s Commentary on this chapter and the picture became clearer.
In sum: God will work justice on behalf of His people, Judah, even when it means punishing Israel. God will also save a remnant of Israel and provide food for them—food and hope. With God, there is always hope. Finally, God will punish the nation that attacked Israel, so that in all these nations, Judah, Israel, Syria, and Assyria, He will have glory.
Dear God, teach us how to read Your word. Fill us with a love for Your scripture! Give us the interest, the passion, and the TOOLS to figure it out!
Image of a family of refugees seeking better times during the American Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Many traveled by car or bus, but this family was photographed walking with only an old wagon and a baby stroller. Yet, their plight is far better than some refugees—the nation was not at war, after all, and though the crops were failing, no one was being attacked.
Isaiah 15 is a short chapter, but not an easy one. How do you interpret a challenging bit of scripture? Look to the footnotes if your Bible has them. Study Bibles often do. Still lost? Consider a commentary. One of the most popular is the classic Matthew Henry Commentary, freely available online at the press of a button.
Let’s begin with the text. The nine verses of Isaiah 15 foretell the destruction of Israel’s cousin—and on-again, off-again enemy—Moab.
“In the night [the city] Ar of Moab is laid waste … in the night Kir of Moab is laid waste … Moab shall howl over Nebo and over Medeba … Everyone shall howl, weeping … Even the armed soldier shall cry out. His life shall be grievous to him. My heart shall cry out for Moab, his fugitives shall flee to Zoar … The waters shall be desolate, the hay withered away, the grass fails, there is no green thing. The abundance the people have collected and that which they have laid up shall they carry away” Isaiah 15:1-7.
This chapter prophecies a war that will bring destruction to the cities and fields of Moab. The cities will be laid waste and the fields will dry up and blow away. The people who survive will be weeping, howling, as they wrap all their earthly goods up in a blanket or a basket and wander the roads as refugees. This is a sight we see today during times of war. I can remember photos of refugees flooding out of such places as Bosnia, Somalia, Honduras, Rwanda, and Sudan. You might remember scenes of refugees on the road in movies such as Casablanca, Hotel Rwanda, and the memorable ending of Fiddler on the Roof. But what can we learn from this picture of suffering in Isaiah 15?
The study Bible I’ve been reading lately offers a single note for Isaiah 15, providing some historical context about Moab—a people descended from Abraham’s nephew Lot. For more information, I looked up the Matthew Henry Commentary online. Writing some 300 years ago, the Presbyterian Minister Matthew Henry provides food for thought:
Henry speaks of the multitude weeping, wailing, howling. The people of Moab who are not dead are awash in grief over their lost loved ones and the destruction of their homes.
The suffering is so all-encompassing, Henry notes that the only relief they might find is that encapsulated in the Latin expression, SOCIOS HABUISSE DOLORIS. In English this phrase translates to “It is a comfort for the miserable to have had companions in pain.” In other words, MISERY LOVES COMPANY.
Yet this is almost a joke. Henry is saying these Moabites are suffering so horribly that the only comfort they have is the knowledge that they are not alone—and that is little comfort indeed.
None of the Moabites shall escape God’s judgment.
In fact, things are so bad, even the soldiers are discouraged.
“The armed soldier shall cry out. His life shall be grievous to him” Isaiah 15:4.
Matthew Henry comments that,
“Though they were bred soldiers, and were well armed, yet they shall cry out and shriek for fear, and every one of them shall have his life become grievous to him, though it is characteristic of a military life to delight in danger. See how easily God can dispirit the stoutest of men, and deprive a nation of benefit by those whom it most depended upon for strength and defense. The Moabites shall generally be so overwhelmed with grief that life itself shall be a burden to them. God can easily make weary of life those that are fondest of it.”
In the face of God’s judgment, even soldiers—those for whom the term ‘gung ho’ was coined—will lose their courage and eagerness for battle.
Henry then addresses the result of war: destruction, famine, and poverty:
“Famine is usually the sad effect of war. Look into the fields that were well watered, the fruitful meadows that yielded delightful prospects and more delightful products, and there all is eaten up, or carried off by the enemy’s foragers, and the remainder trodden to dirt by their horses. If an army encamp upon green fields, their greenness is soon gone. Look into the houses, and they are stripped too: The abundance of wealth that they had gotten with a great deal of art and industry, and that which they had laid up with a great deal of care and confidence, shall they carry away to the brook of the willows.”
God’s judgment will bring destruction, famine, and poverty.
(Still from the 2023 film Io Capitano, telling the true story of refugees traveling from Senegal to Italy across the Sahara Desert.)
Finally, there is a word of hope. The passage describes refugees on the run, fugitives carrying all their possessions with them. But some of them will retreat to the city of Zoar, like their ancestor Lot did so long ago.* Lot fled the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and found himself in Zoar. Matthew Henry writes,
“The fugitives … shall carry the cry to Zoar, the city to which their ancestor Lot fled for shelter from Sodom’s flames and which was spared for his sake.”
Even in judgment, God often provides a place of refuge, a city of Zoar.
In sum, Isaiah 15 teaches these lessons:
None of the Moabites shall escape God’s judgment.
In the face of God’s judgment, even soldiers—those for whom the term ‘gung ho’ was coined—will lose their courage and eagerness for battle.
God’s judgment will bring destruction, famine, and poverty.
Even in judgment, God often provides a place of refuge, a city of Zoar.
As I said, much of the above was gleaned from the Matthew Henry Commentary, a six-volume commentary on the entire Bible. A Wikipedia entry describes the classic commentary this way: “Famous evangelical Protestant preachers used and heartily commended the work, such as John Wesley, George Whitefield and Charles Spurgeon, with Whitefield reading it through four times – the last time on his knees. Spurgeon stated, ‘Every minister ought to read it entirely and carefully through once at least.’”
Dear God, teach us to read well Your amazing words. Guide us to the aids we need, whether footnotes in a Study Bible, or commentaries like the extraordinary work of Matthew Henry. May we grow to know Your word better every day.
AΩ.
I have long known of a church named Zoar: Zoar Baptist Church in Central City (Baton Rouge), Louisiana. It was only while drafting these words that my curiosity finally got the best of me, and I texted my cousin. She informed me that yes, the church was named after the refuge city to which Lot fled when he ran from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.
When I was a tiny boy, my father was tender and affectionate with me. My brother and I would run to grab him when he came in from work, and he would try to walk with one of us clinging to each leg. We would sit in his soft chair and he would gingerly sit on us, pretending not to know we were there. He would wrestle with us, the biggest man we knew, but he would use so much restraint. He was gentle and kind. We knew we were absolutely safe with him. Even when he punished us, he exercised great self-control.
But he was not so tender when he perceived a threat to his children. While we were walking through New York’s Central Park, a drug pusher tried to sell my dad dope and he swelled up like a blowfish, roaring at the man for daring to approach him while he was with his two little boys. Another time an adult neighbor of questionable mental health threatened to break the legs of my brother and me and my dad impressed upon the man that hurting his little boys was not in that man’s best interest. My father was a man of science, a Sunday school teacher and deacon who loved few things more than a good book. But like Atticus Finch when faced with a rabid dog, no one better harm his children.
God is the same.
He is kind and tender and affectionate. God is love. He says that about Himself in 1 John 4:8. But God is no pacifist. When His children are threatened, God is the most terrible, most warlike foe in the universe.
Why does that bother people? Why are some Christians uncomfortable with the idea of a God who is fearsome and terrible, capable of indescribable wrath? After all, that wrath is reserved for God’s enemies, not His children.
Did you think God was Mister Rogers? A soft-voiced gentleman in sneakers and sweaters? Fred Rogers created Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood to use television to bring some kindness and peace to very small children. But Fred Rogers was a minister himself. He likely understood that while God is tender and comforting with His children, those who would harm His children will see another side of God altogether.
–A side that may look something like this paraphrase of the words of Isaiah:[1]
From distant mountains comes the noise of a crowd, a multitude of thousands upon thousands. The march of ten thousand boots stepping in time. You can hear the drums beating and the rattling of swords. Armies descend on the city from all sides. The Lord is calling the armies to battle. The soldiers come from far countries, from heaven itself. They were brought here by the Lord. These are the weapons of His anger and they will destroy the land.
Howl! Scream! Wail! For your destruction is at hand. Look! Your hands are too weak to grab a bow or point a rifle. Your heart is pounding so hard it will melt. You know the end is near.
And all the evil shall be afraid. Terrified. And pain will overtake them like a woman in labor. How will they fight while suffering labor pains? They will look at each other and be astonished. Amazed. What is happening? Their faces are on fire. Or is it the reflection of a fire that is coming? The orange glow of doom.
Behold, this is the Day of the Lord. This is the Lord’s Day. Pretty Sundays with Easter flowers and pressed white dresses, suits and bows and patent leather. You think that is the Lord’s Day? Well, so is this—the GREAT AND TERRIBLE DAY OF THE LORD. This is the Lord’s Day, the day is His and VENGEANCE is His. The time has come.
This day will be cruel both with wrath and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate. And He shall destroy the sinners, clearing them from the land. And the stars will go dark. The sun will not shine. The moon will drop away. Darkness will cover the land from one end to the other and God will speak His judgment:
“I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity. I will cause the arrogance of the proud to cease and will lay low the haughtiness of the powerful … I will shake the heavens and the earth from their place … And everyone that is found will be thrust through with the sword. Everyone will fall by the sword” Isaiah 13:11,13,15.
Dear God, You are so tender with us! You are so patient, so kind, so generous, so gracious. And eternally, unspeakably forgiving. Yet You protect us from our enemies. You defend us. You fight for us! You are so good to us. You execute judgment on Your enemies because You are HOLY. May we honor You with holy lives. May we worship You and adore You with intimacy and tenderness. But please fill us with the Fear of the Lord also. May we never lose sight of the affectionate love You have for us and the terrifying wrath reserved for Your enemies.
Our dog Georgie recently delivered a litter of nine puppies! These are outdoor dogs whose mother had never seen the inside of a building. And then the temperature dropped to 18 degrees—no problem when you have heat lamps, space heaters,[1] and a cozy dog house on a covered, concrete porch.
But then the power went out.
Suddenly Georgie and her nine tiny, blind puppies found themselves indoors. It worked out well and the adorable puppies thrived, soon moving on to wonderful new homes.
Eighteen degrees is cold for Houston. The puppies were born in the dead of winter. But it never stays cold for long on the Texas Gulf Coast. By the time they were ten days old and opening their eyes (back on the front porch), it was clear they could not tolerate the noonday sun. I had to find ways to provide shade for the puppies during the brief hours when the sun shone in through the door in their dog house. No matter how cold it was at night, the afternoons seemed blazing.
As the puppies got older, they continued to prefer shade. They might chase each other around the yard for a few minutes, but soon all nine would conk out in the shade against a tree or a fence. These little furballs could not take the bright sun—not even in February!
Few things on earth are as beautiful or universally beloved as the glory of a bright, sunshiny day. But as beautiful as it is, we need to be sheltered from the sun—through sunscreen, sunglasses, and sunshades of all kinds.
Isaiah says God will provide a tabernacle to shelter His people:
“There shall be a tabernacle for shade in the daytime to protect from the heat” Isaiah 4:6.
The Old Testament idea of a tabernacle is that of a tent or a small building—a shelter to provide shade during the heat of the day. But Isaiah is talking about a tabernacle to shelter God’s people from the heat of God’s glory. Does that make sense?
God’s glory is a consuming fire (Hebrews 12:29) and as beautiful as that is, He does not wish to consume us. God desires to warm His people, to bless us and reveal to us some of His beauty and His joy. But we must be sheltered from the fullness of God’s glory. (The people of Israel could not bear even to see the residue of God’s glory when it made the face of Moses shine after Moses spent forty days with God on Mount Sinai, Exodus 34:29-34.)
The New Testament expands on this idea in the most intriguing way. John writes that “the Word became flesh and tabernacled among us” John 1:14. As one commentator put it, “the glory canopy moved from desert tent to human life.”
Imagine that. God provides a tabernacle to shelter us so we may behold some small measure of His glory. Then God comes in the flesh; God becomes the glory tabernacle. Jesus comes to earth as the shelter through which we can see some of God’s glory without being burned up by it.
The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us.
Through Jesus, we can see something of God’s glory.
“The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us. And we beheld His glory, glory as of the only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth … No one has seen God at any time; the only begotten God who is in the bosom of the Father, He has explained Him” John 1:14,18.
Dear God, thank you for showing us some small measure of Your glory. Thank You for blessing us, for sheltering us, for allowing us to be warmed by Your glory, but never burned by Your all-consuming fire. May Jesus Christ be the incarnate God in our lives who reveals to us God’s glory and God’s truth, but shelters us under the covering of Your gentle, kind, loving heart.
AΩ.
[1] On the rare occasions I indulge the dogs with a space heater, I place it inside a large cage for safety and stability.
“Beauty is meaningless, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised” Proverbs 31:30.
Each of us is born with gifts: athletic gifts, artistic gifts, academic gifts, gifts of leadership, job skills, people skills, physical strength, stature, height, and even gifts of appearance. Some people are simply born beautiful, and whether it seems fair, relevant, or important in any way, it is a type of gift. Just ask anyone who has lost their looks. Attractiveness can open doors and smooth introductions. Good looks are not enough to keep a relationship going, but they can get one started. Outer beauty will open doors.
And yet, we all know how meaningless looks are. There is no merit to appearance, no real value. You did not make yourself beautiful. Just as you cannot choose your height, you cannot choose your looks. And while you may be able to work out and diet and do a few things to improve your physique, there is almost nothing you can do to improve your face. Surgeons can enhance your looks at best, efforts that are little more than permanent makeup. Surgeons cannot turn a character actor into a leading man.
Attractiveness can be a useful gift, particularly for performers and those working in leadership or sales roles. But attractiveness can also be a trap, a stumbling block creating pride that can destroy not only human relationships, but our relationship with God. You must be on the lookout for pride and arrogance! Never let it gain a foothold in your life. Why? Because “God is opposed to the proud” James 4:6.
Read what the prophet Isaiah has to say about Israel’s beautiful but arrogant women. Not only will God destroy their looks, but He will destroy every beautiful thing that puffs up their pride, from perfume to purses. It is so important to stay humble!
“The Lord says, ‘The women of Zion are haughty, walking along with outstretched necks, flirting with their eyes, strutting along with swaying hips, with ornaments jingling on their ankles. Therefore the Lord will bring sores on the heads of the women of Zion; the Lord will make their scalps bald.’
“In that day the Lord will snatch away their finery: the bangles and headbands and crescent necklaces, the earrings and bracelets and veils,the headdresses and anklets and sashes, the perfume bottles and charms, the signet rings and nose rings, the fine robes and the capes and cloaks, the purses and mirrors, and the linen garments and tiaras and shawls.
“Instead of fragrance there will be a stench; instead of a sash, a rope; instead of well-dressed hair, baldness; instead of fine clothing, sackcloth; instead of beauty, branding” Isaiah 3:16-24.
It is so important to remain humble! Preachers often describe Lucifer as the most beautiful of angels, but then he began to admire his own beauty, became proud, and rebelled against God forever. We must not do the same.
We must not give in to the temptation to take pride in our appearance.
God will not tolerate pride of any kind. He is opposed to the proud.
Are you prepared to have the God of the universe opposed to you?
Finally, consider Jesus’s warning for the rich. I think it applies to the beautiful as well:
“It is more difficult for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for [a beautiful person] to enter into the kingdom of God” Matthew 19:24.
“It’s drawing,” I said, “I always understand drawing.”
I was in the second grade. My teacher, Ms. Foster, was so nice to me. She tolerated my short attention span, my outbursts, my inability to follow directions. She had decided I was “artistic” and she loved that about me. I could do no wrong in Ms. Foster’s class. (I had so few teachers like her!)
The assignment was based on a story the class had read the day before. But I had been absent the day before. Still, how hard could it be? It was drawing, right? I loved to draw. In the second grade, I LIVED to draw!
The story was called “The Still Pond” and each of us was going to illustrate it.
I collected my 11 x 17 manila paper and my box of crayons and I got to work! I started with the pond, of course. And a tree next to it. And a frog jumping into the water. And a turtle. Make that a family of turtles. And a family of ducks, with lots of little ducklings. And fish leaping from the water.
What else lives around water? I asked myself. Oh yeah! I drew lobsters. And crabs. And seagulls. And pelicans. And geese. And swans. And two men fishing. And a motorboat. And water skiers. And a bear catching a salmon in its mouth. And sharks attacking killer whales. Blue whales blowing water from their blowholes. And dragonflies. And cattails. And lily pads. And snakes.
And I kept asking myself the same question: What else happens around water? And then I would add another detail to the picture. A waterfall. A geyser. A wave with someone surfing. Two children building sand castles. Rubber rafts. Canoes. Sailboats. Yachts. Ocean liners.
By the time I was finished, I had drawn something more complicated than an engineering schematic, the busiest, most over-drawn, ridiculously crowded picture you can imagine. But Ms. Foster loved it. She hung it up for the school’s open-house the following week.
When my parents came to the open-house, all the adults had a good laugh. I could not figure out what was so funny. This was a masterpiece! All the other kids just drew a tiny blue pond with one bored frog over on the bank doing nothing. My drawing had more animals than Noah’s Ark!
Eventually my mom explained to me that a ‘still pond’ was a pond where nothing was happening. Where things were still. I had created a fantastical picture of all the busy marine life in the world gathered around a single little pond. The wealth of detail was pretty good for an eight-year-old. But of course, I had completely missed the point.
Nevertheless, the differences between things often come down to details. It is details that tell the story. Details transform a room into a home. Details transform vague, general notions into well-developed ideas.
The Bible encourages praise. But that statement alone is rather general. By contrast, Psalm 148 tells us to praise the Lord—and then specifically encourages praise from every creature in the universe. Read the detailed words of this song lyric. Read it slowly enough to let it paint a picture in your mind. Try to imagine every creature and created thing the songwriter mentions:
Praise the Lord! … Praise Him, all His angels; Praise Him, all His hosts! Praise Him, sun and moon; Praise Him, all stars of light! Praise Him, highest heavens, And the waters that are above the heavens! …
Praise the Lord from the earth, Sea monsters and all deeps; Fire and hail, snow and clouds; Stormy wind, fulfilling His word; Mountains and all hills; Fruit trees and all cedars; Beasts and all cattle; Creeping things and winged fowl; Kings of the earth and all peoples; Princes and all judges of the earth; Both young men and virgins; Old men and children.
Let them praise the name of the Lord … Praise the Lord!
Psalm 148:1-14.
Dear God, thank You for Your amazing word that shows us how to live—and how to praise. May we praise You always, honoring You in the manner that You deserve. Train us to “Rejoice always,” to “praise the Lord at all times.” Give us details that we can mention as we praise You: Your attributes, Your greatness, Your holiness, Your love, Your grace, Your salvation, Your wisdom. We praise You for all your amazing qualities. Teach us to appreciate those details.
Have you ever faced death? Stood on a cliff and felt the danger in slippery gravel or a gust of wind? Have you looked in the face of a mad dog or a dangerous wild animal? Narrowly escaped a terrible car accident? Or worse, faced down an angry and dangerous man, perhaps one brandishing a weapon? Maybe you have suffered an illness or an injury that would have taken you out but for the healing hand of God and the intervention of modern medicine. If so, you understand something of salvation. Salvation is rescue. You have been rescued. In 2023, my brother was rescued—saved—from a case of double pneumonia that nearly killed him. In 1997, I survived a car accident witnesses considered unsurvivable. I was rescued. Saved.
A few years ago while stopped at a red light, I heard popping noises and realized I was in the middle of a shootout. People were running between cars firing guns and using the vehicles to shield themselves from bullets. There were shooters in front of my truck and shooters behind. Suddenly I realized just how thin the sheet metal on a pickup truck really is. But I was rescued. I was saved.
Realizing what was happening, drivers ignored the red light and began darting across the traffic on Westheimer Road—a six-lane street so heavily traveled it has its own Wikipedia page. I did the same without hesitation. I was interested in justice, in identifying the shooters, in doing my part to assist law enforcement. But I was more interested in not making my children orphans.
Oh, there is joy in rescue. Being saved from death is joyful!
When David commits the most destructive sins of his life, he prays, “restore to me the joy of your salvation” Psalm 51:12. David knows he is going to heaven. He knows he is forgiven. But he is filled with remorse and regret and pain and needs joy. Sinners need the joy of salvation.
When we sin, we need our joy to be restored. We need God to renew in us the joy of having been rescued.
Isaiah knows this joy. Isaiah says:
“God is my salvation. I will trust and not be afraid … He is my strength and my song and He has become my salvation. Therefore, with joy shall you draw water from the well of salvation” Isaiah 12:2-3.
Is God your rescue? I know He is your provision. He gives you life and food and abundance. “In Him we live and move and have our being” Acts 17:28. God provides for everyone. But have you given God your life? Have you accepted His free gift of rescue, eternal rescue? Give your heart to Jesus. Then you will discover true joy, a joy like nothing else. A joy that is deeper than the deepest well. The joy of salvation is a joy that has no end.
“With joy shall you draw water from the well of salvation” Isaiah 12:3.
AΩ.
By the way, this was not a case of being on the wrong side of town after dark. The gunplay happened around three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. I had just left Mod Pizza and was across the street from Panera Bread. Based on what my friends and I could discover later, including the police activity records available online, no one was injured.
Restore to me the joy of thy salvation—Psalm 51:12.
With joy shall you draw water from the well of salvation—Isaiah 12:3.
I recently watched a stand-up comic (Randy Feltface, the puppet of stand-up comedy) do some crowd work. The writing that goes into the scripted bits of a stand-up act fascinates me. But the impromptu conversations called “crowd work” lose me when they devolve into mocking the audience for cheap laughs. But this conversation was interesting:
“And what do you do for a living ma’am?” “I work at HEB.” (Cheers.) “Wait. What? What do you do? Why is everyone cheering? ‘H-E-V’?” “H-E-B.” The comic was still confused. Soon the entire room was yelling, “H-E-B! H-E-B! H-E-B!” “Oh. H.E.B. Got it. And what is ‘HEB’?” The crowd yells out, “a grocery store!” The performer is astonished. “A grocery store?” He looks at the woman. “You mention that you work at a grocery store and the entire room applauds? Seriously? What kind of grocery store is this?” Someone yells, “the best kind!” “Are you kidding me? I have performed around the world, in cities all over the United States and everywhere else. I come to San Antonio and the crowd gets excited about a grocery store? Man! That’s crazy.”[1]
I laughed as I witnessed this exchange, and I thought about how good it feels to walk into HEB. I was there Sunday. In fact, there is no store I shop in more often. There have been weeks I stopped in seven days in a row. They have all the food you could ever imagine. And gas. And my prescriptions. Everything for pets. Plants. Lawn furniture. They have a smattering of hardware, tools, kitchen appliances, and household goods. It smells good. It is well lit and I know where things are (until the biennial shuffle that always make me hate the place for about six months). As I watched the crowd cheer for HEB, I realized I agreed with them. I do not like shopping, but I like HEB. It makes no sense. But it’s a great place and I literally feel joy when I walk in. I think I honestly do. I feel joy.
I’m sure HEB pays a cracker-jack staff to come up with the perfect layout, lighting, smells, and products. There is a science to the frictionless way the carts roll silently along the linoleum. Someone studied exactly which music to pipe in through the tiny speakers, a whisper of pop tunes to keep things feeling upbeat and hopeful. They know what time of day to brew coffee and bake bread and truck in fresh flowers and pull cookies, cakes, and pies from the ovens. Everything smells like delicious abundance, like holidays, like love and family and happiness. Millions have been spent to cultivate the perfect ambience.
But on a deeper, primal level, we shoppers remain hunters and gatherers. It feels good to put your hands on food and stash it in your cart. It feels good to provide for your family. It feels good to fill up the food cache, the meat locker, the egg basket, the fish box, the bread bin, the cheese cellar, the cracker barrel. It is a great feeling to have so much provision stored away that scarcity is not a threat. Doing without is not a threat.
That is one of the joys of salvation. Buying groceries at HEB gives us a chance to trade our money—our labor—for food. No one is going to go hungry. Such ‘food security’ equates to provision, to abundance, to the joy of salvation.
Isaiah compares salvation to a well from which we might draw joy.
If you have ever seen people who lack access to clean water, you can understand the joy of a deep well. Talk about provision! All the food in the world means nothing to a thirsty soul with nothing to drink.
The provision of food brings great joy and the provision of drink also brings great joy. Consequently, Jesus describes Himself as both the Bread of Life and Living Water. Jesus is essential. He is the food and water we need if we are going to survive, to thrive, to have joy. The salvation Jesus provides is a well of deep joy!
But there is more to the joy of salvation than the joy of provision. There is also the joy of rescue.
Salvation is a deep well of joy, joy created not only by a Savior who provides for all your needs, but by a Savior who rescues! See part two.
Dear God, we thank you for your provision! Thank you for meeting all our needs, both on earth and in heaven. Thank you for providing so much more than we need. Honestly, you give us so much, you bless us so deeply. Thank you for your compassion, your mercies, your kindness to us. Thank you for the way you do not give hesitantly, but you give lavishly. Thank you for your ‘reckless love’ that gives us so, so, so much more than we need. You are so good to us. You are a good, good Father. Thank you.
Season 11 of the survivalist television show ALONE features a librarian by the name of Peter Albano. After about ten days of absolute solitude, Peter begins to talk to the camera about his son, whom he describes as a small child who feels big emotions. Peter, on the other hand, has perfected the skill of feeling nothing. He explains that as a father, he has been trying to teach his son to keep his emotions to himself, believing that there is strength in an unfeeling stoicism. Peter says he has been married about fifteen years, “and my wife has never seen me cry.”
Just about the time I began arguing with the television, everything began to change. After ten days insulated from the threat of other people’s scorn, Peter’s emotions begin coming to the surface. Although he does not show it on camera, Peter reports crying all the time and thinking about traumas and tragedies he had not thought about for many years. This development struck me as good news, healthy somehow.
But then Peter tapped out. He reached for his satellite phone and called the show’s producers to come and rescue him. As he put it, he was afraid the emotions were going to overwhelm him, taking him to a dark place from which he would struggle to return.
When Peter left his lean-to 100 miles north of the Arctic Circle, he made a decision to learn how to handle emotions, to examine them, live with them, and help his son understand them. It sounded like a healthy change. Like growth.
I knew my father well enough to know how deeply he felt emotions of all kinds—but he was private about his strongest feelings. I watched his life for 55 years and I only saw him shed a single tear, and that was during his own father’s funeral.
In fact, I have known many great men who did not reveal emotions—and I do not criticize them for that. But I think King David found the perfect balance. The warrior-poet provides a healthy example of a powerful, man’s man who is nevertheless comfortable and honest about his emotions. David was confident enough to drop his guard and let people see his emotional pain. (And of course, Jesus did the same, as noted in everyone’s favorite short Bible verse: “Jesus wept,” John 11:35.)
David’s Psalm 142 has a subtitle: “A maskil [song] of David, a prayer when he was in the cave.” Imagine hiding out in a cave, a fugitive on the run. The king himself is obsessed with ending you. David, who grew up playing music for King Saul, who has killed Goliath and led the nation’s warriors in battle, is now living in the wilderness, running for his life from a man who should be heaping upon him trophies and praise. David feels alone and betrayed and he cries out to God. David shares all his emotions—but notice with whom he shares them:
“I cry aloud to the Lord; I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy. I pour out before him my complaint; before him I tell my trouble.
When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who watches over my way. In the path where I walk people have hidden a snare for me. Look and see, there is no one at my right hand; no one is concerned for me. I have no refuge; no one cares for my life. I cry to you, Lord; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.” Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name. Then the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me” Psalm 142:1-7.
David is not uncomfortable with his emotions. But he does not share them with everyone.
As Jesus might put it, David does not ‘cast his pearls before swine’ Matthew 7:6. As Peter Albano and a million other men could tell you—the world is filled with those who do not deserve to hear about your emotions. There is a time to be vulnerable. “There is a time to weep” Ecclesiastes 3:4–and there is a time not to.
David owns his emotions. He will explore them, feel them, and share them. But David does not share his emotions with everyone. He shares them with God, his Shepherd who “restores his soul” Psalm 23:3.
Do you share your deepest emotions with God? You should.
Few things will do more for your relationship with God than deep and honest prayers—conversations—about your emotions.
One easy, practical way to do that is to grab a cheap notebook and begin writing prayers to God every day. A spiritual journal will not only enrich your prayer life, it may help you begin to hear more from God than you ever have before. Regularly writing prayers to God is a powerful tool!
Finally, look at David’s conclusion. After he shares his emotions with God, his loneliness, his feelings of betrayal, and his desperate prayers for rescue, he knows God is going to bless him:
“Set me free from my prison, that I may praise Your Name. Then the righteous will gather about me because of Your goodness to me” Psalm 142:7.
This psalm, this prayer that is a song, begins alone in a cave where David feels “no one is concerned for me … no one cares for my life” (v.4). But by the end, David is no longer alone.
“Then the righteous will gather about me because of Your goodness to me.”
That is how good God is. Not only will God bless you, but He will surround you with encouragement from the righteous. They will gather around you because they can sense that God has been good to you.
Dear God, teach us to manage our emotions. To handle them with wisdom and discipline. To remember that we can choose how we react and we can choose to cultivate gratitude and forgiveness and a good, Godly attitude. Teach us to share emotions honestly, especially in prayer. And we thank you for the promise of comfort not only from You but from Your people.
Then will the righteous gather about me because of your goodness to me.
I have a confession. I am a night owl. It’s not a small thing. I suffered insomnia from age five to thirty-five. Morning coffee cured me, leaving me sleepy at night for the first time. But old habits die hard. I remain an absolute night person—and yes, I struggle not to feel shame about it!
They say nothing good happens after midnight. The hour between 12 and 1 a.m. is known as “the witching hour,” because of the belief that witches and demons are most active in the middle of the night. Late one night Hamlet, finally resolved to take revenge on his murderous uncle, describes the middle of the night as the time when ghosts come out of their tombs and the evils of hell walk the earth:
“Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breaks out contagion to this world” (Act 3, scene 2).
It sounds great on stage or in a horror movie. But we exaggerate the evils of darkness. That’s not to say I have not felt a creepy sense of foreboding at night. I have. But I attribute those feelings to (1) being in dangerous locations after dark, or (2) being awake so late, the foreboding was simply a warning I would ruin the following day if I did not quickly go to bed.
I do not believe night time is intrinsically evil. For most of us, it may be a foolish time to be out on the roads, and perhaps a bad time even to be awake. Both activities pose risks.
But what if you must work nights? What if you are a security guard? Or a police officer or fire fighter? What about my mother who spent thousands of nights in the O.R. working as a surgical nurse? The pay was better, and she enjoyed some of the ways in which working nights differed from working days.
My grandfather did shift work at the Esso Refinery in Baton Rouge. There were three 8-hour shifts a day, and three crews who rotated. Every third week, my grandfather’s crew worked the night shift. He had no choice.[1]
The Levites at the temple in Jerusalem also had to work nights. In its three short verses, Psalm 134 encourages the night watchmen in their important role:
“Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord who minister by night in the house of the Lord. Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the Lord. May the Lord bless you from Zion, he who is the Maker of heaven and earth” Psalm 134:1-3.
I love that. These temple watchmen have to stay up all night standing guard. And there is nothing wrong with that—in fact, their job is crucial. They have to work. At night. There is no other way to get the job done.[2]
And the psalmist encourages them to praise God while they are working:
“Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord who minister by night in the house of the Lord” Psalm 134:1.
Do you ever have to work at night? Most of us have worked at night—some rarely, some often. Maybe you had to stay up all night writing a research paper or finishing a project at the office. Others of us have spent long nights on the road or sitting in an airport. It can be a strange experience to look at a clock and realize you are awake at what is so often described as “an ungodly hour.”
Yet, the hour itself is not ungodly. Your God who is omnipresent is also always-present. He is with you during the so-called witching hours. Talk to Him. Praise Him. Give Him a few minutes of worship and He will redeem those hours of overnight work that can otherwise feel so strange.
A final thought. My wife and I just agreed to teach a Life Bible Study class (a Sunday school class) on Sunday nights. There is a worship service at 4 p.m., then class begins at 5:30. It is strange for us, having attended Sunday morning worship our entire lives. But you know what? I am going to hang on to Psalm 134:1. Maybe we will make this our key verse!
“Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord who minister by night in the house of the Lord” Psalm 134:1.
AΩ.
[1] During my grandfather’s career, the crews at the Esso refinery worked 8-hour shifts that rotated counter-clockwise. One week you might work 7 to 3. The next week you would work 11 to 7. And the third week you would work 7 to 11. The problem is, rather than staying up an additional eight hours, you had to figure out a way to go to sleep eight hours earlier—which seems impossibly unnatural. He worked at Esso over forty years. Sounds like a lifetime of jet lag!
[2] Jesus often “worked nights.” Not only did He stay up late, but He also got up while it was still dark so He could be alone in prayer. He stayed up all night praying before calling His disciples, Luke 6:12. Following a long day of miracles, He rose while it was still dark to pray, Mark 1:35. He stayed up all night after feeding the 5,000–praying for several hours, then walking on the water just before dawn, Matthew 14:22-32. Jesus also prayed all night before His arrest, Matthew 26:36-46. The Apostle Paul also preached all night long, Acts 20:7-11.
Household Words: 