Do what you do so well, O God

Let me re-configure an age-old saying that actually was used by a coach of mine on occasion. When the going gets tough, he said, the tough get going. Actually, when the going gets tough, if they’re smart the tough get going to the one who helps us all, who is our refuge, who is our (as it says) our vast, granite fortress.

Psalm 70 in the Message reads, “I run for dear life to God, I’ll never live to regret it. Do what you do so well: get me out of this mess and up on my feet. Put your ear to the ground and listen, give me space for salvation. Be a guest room where I can retreat; you said your door was always open; you said your door was always open! You’re my salvation – my vast, granite fortress.

“My God, free me from the grip of Wicked, from the clutch of Bad and Bully. You keep me going when times are tough – my bedrock, God, since my childhood. I’ve hung on you from the day of my birth, the day you took me from the cradle; I’ll never run out of praise. Many gasp in alarm when they see me, but you take me in stride.”

Where do you go? How do you go? A friend messaged me minutes ago this: “CT scan results 2day. Chemo also.” She is, of course, asking for prayer – again to the one who is our refuge, our vast, granite fortress.”

We throw a live for survival when lines for survival are so needed, but these ropes aren’t just a last hope, they are a real hope, to the one who can change, who can save, who can help.

Love the language: Be a guest room where I can retreat. That’s God. That’s who we love, adore, treasure, praise. That’s Jehovah. That’s our Father. That’s our Jesus. That’s our Spirit.

When danger is prevalent, when worry is mounting, when the storm's winds are the greatest, we have options. We can give in to the danger, give in to the worry, let the fear overcome us. Or we can, well, trust. What if a thousand sleepless nights are what are needed to let us know the God whose name couldn't even be uttered 2,500 hundred years ago is near, right there in the room we're praying in?

William Booth, in the Founders Messages to Soldiers, write, "Faith and works should travel side by side, step answering to step, like the legs of men walking. First faith, and then works; and then faith again, and then works again -- until they can scarcely distinguish which is the one and which is the other."

Seems to a wondering, wandering soul like me that prayer is sort of a key that opens the lock to faith, which undoubtedly opens the large, steel door that we call -- for lack of a better thought or idea or name -- grace. 

When things are at their worst, the ship is going down and such, prayer is called for. When things are at their best, the ship has landed in port and our cargo has been fully paid, prayer is called for.

There's an appropriate illustration here.

A pastor named Stephey Bilynskyj, starts each confirmation class with a jar full of beans. He asks his students to guess how many beans are in the jar, and on a big pad of paper writes down their estimates. Then, next to those estimates, he helps them make another list: Their favorite songs. When the lists are complete, he reveals the actual number of beans in the jar. The whole class looks over their guesses, to see which estimate was closest to being right. Bilynskyj then turns to the list of favorite songs. "And which one of these is closest to being right?" he asks. The students protest that there is no "right answer"; a person's favorite song is purely a matter of taste. Bilynskyj, who holds a Ph.D. in philosophy from Notre Dame asks, "When you decide what to believe in terms of your faith, is that more like guessing the number of beans, or more like choosing your favorite song?" Always, Bilynskyj says, from old as well as young, he gets the same answer: Choosing one's faith is more like choosing a favorite song. When Bilynskyj told me this, it took my breath away. "After they say that, do you confirm them?" I asked him. "Well," smiled Bilynskyj, "First I try to argue them out of it."

The Psalm ends this way: "When I open up in song to you, I let out lungsful of praise, my rescued life a song. All day long I'm chanting about you and your righteous ways, while those who tried to do me in slink off looking ashamed."

Well, I'm not sure I see a whole lot of that going on in my life. But what I do see is a lot of people understanding more about Him when I chant about him and his righteous ways. Comparing his ways and my ways only shows Him to be more wonderful, more perfect, more loving. Me? I'm just another filthy rage waiting to be washed.