Click the words "I Wanna Say Thank You" on the right hand side of this page to hear a song that goes along with this post. [Here are the lyrics.]
On this dark evening for my soul, I opened up a bible. I thought to flip through the book of Isaiah--no goal in particular other than looking for anything that would check my attitutes, my thinking, my heart. It was one of those rare occasions when the place I cracked the book happened to be a place with text that spoke to my needs.
Here was a king, King Hezekiah, who had been quite ill, near death, and he regained health by God's kindness.
I said, "In the prime of my life must I go through the gates of death and be robbed of the rest of my years?" I said, "I will not again see the LORD, the LORD, in the land of the living; no longer will I look on mankind, or be with those who now dwell in this world. Like a shepherd's tent my house has been pulled down and taken from me. Like a weaver I have rolled up my life, and he has cut me off from the loom; day and night you made an end of me. I waited patiently till dawn, but like a lion he broke all my bones; day and night you made an end of me. I cried like a swift or thrush, I moaned like a mourning dove. My eyes grew weak as I looked to the heavens. I am troubled; O Lord, come to my aid!"
That dude had a rough journey. "Day and night you made an end of me." He suffered and was wearing out. He wanted help. At the same time, he had his sights on the end of his life. I have watched family members dying. I've felt at the end of my life before. I can't speak for them, but I can say I understand the "cut me off" and "made an end of me" sentiments.
But what can I say? He has spoken to me, and he himself has done this. I will walk humbly all my years because of this anguish of my soul.
Lord, by such things men live; and my spirit finds life in them too. You restored me to health and let me live.
Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish.
Whoa... Something happened in his life and in his heart that he was able to look back, even after remembering the points at which he hopelessly felt he was cut off and being made an end of, and know, really know that this was good for him.
In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back.
For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for your faithfulness.
The living, the living--they praise you, as I am doing today; fathers tell their children about your faithfulness.
The LORD will save me, and we will sing with stringed instruments all the days of our lives in the temple of the LORD.
--King Hezekiah, 687 B.C.
Well, one huge recognition was that God loved him, loved him even with how ugly of a person he'd been, attitude-wise, rejecting God. What touched my heart most, though, in reading this was the detail about who it is that praises God: the living. Yeah, yeah, I know about life after death, and praise will go on in heaven (and much more easily, that's for sure). The detail here is that he saw the opportunity for praise now. "Keep me alive so I can praise you, so I can tell others about you" was the nature of his response.
When I was 19, my view of life came out in these kinds of words to God: "I'm just a pawn on a chess board. Now that I'm here, you're going to just move me around on the board until you're done with me, and then you'll be done with me here on earth and I'll go to heaven. Ya know, I'd much rather be in heaven!"
I called my sister Jan one evening and talked about my discouragement. She suggested we both go and read the letter written by Paul to the group of believers in the town of Philippi. I wasn't familiar with it. I read along and then was wide-eyed when I hit this.
If I had to choose right now, I hardly know which I'd choose. Hard choice! The desire to break camp here and be with Christ is powerful. Some days I can think of nothing better. But most days, because of what you are going through, I am sure that it's better for me to stick it out here.
Paul had kinda said what I was thinking: "I'd rather die and be with Christ." But he followed that by saying it was more important for him to remain here with them. Someone who could relate to my interest in ending this life (ok, not quite) was also saying there was good in him staying, a compelling reason. What was that reason, I wondered! And in my ongoing reading, one of the impressions I was left with was that whatever I was going through, whether enjoying the successes of this life or facing suffering, I needed a different attitude about God. I had the opportunity, regardless of what I was going through, to be beautiful toward God, to honor God, to praise God. Which attitude of mine would he enjoy more--me kicking at that which was around me while ignoring him, or turning to face him in my suffering and sharing a smile, sharing a relationship, thinking of and telling him about things I appreciated about him, about his character, about his artistic ability, about kindness I'd seen shown to others--even doing that when I could not see goodness coming my way? That's what I could do--praise him, honor him. And that new thinking, and seeing that in Paul in his letters to the believers, that brought peace at many points in my life. (And I'm in need of returning to that again!)
Reading King Hezekiah's prayer reminded me of another place where the author noted that praise would still be his choice. Habakkuk was a guy who looked at the suffering going on in his country (famine, for example) and spoke out in anger to God about that. I'd sum up God's response to him as, "I know. But this suffering is what they need right now. There are some things they have not yet learned."
I envy Habakkuk. He not only got an answer from God but he got a reason. It definitely cannot be said that all suffering is for people to learn something. But in this case, it most definitely was, and now Habakkuk knew.
When I read the following text, I see Habakkuk as having shifted position, having changed his view of things. Earlier, he was angry with a God who he viewed as cruel for no reason. Now, he was aware that God's actions were not purposeless; God's actions were born out of commitment to relationship with these people, a good thing overall.
So, when I read this text, I feel the shift in Habakkuk's attitude from kicking at God to realigning himself with God.
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.
--Habakkuk, 612 B.C.
I want to have that attitude in the fullness of my soul. (That song gives me a boost in the right direction...)
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