Lent 2015 Days 13-16: He Knows

My friend and I visit and pray on the phone most week days before we go to our respective jobs. One thing that always heartens me is the reply I receive from him each time I pop the commonly asked question, "How are you?" His answer is always one and the same:

"I'm alive; I'm awake." 

For six years, we've been praying together, talking about our days, and learning about each other. We have grown truly familiar with one another. Sometimes a slight sigh from me will send him on a probing spree since he can already tell from my voice that there is a rough matter teeming my heart. Sometimes a simple hello from him will cause me to ask about the reason for his ebullience because I can already sense joy and gratitude welling up in his heart. 

That is the beauty of friendship.
That is the beauty of brotherhood.

Still, there is no way he and I can know each other to the extent the Father knows humanity. Though I know many things about him -- things he's told me; things I've sensed -- and vice versa, neither one of us knows when death will separate us. I don't know all his thoughts and he is unaware of some of my pondering. We simply don't know everything about each other. How could we? We are mere mortals.

But there is One who knows. 

Psalm 139:3 expresses it in this way:

"You search out my path and my lying down

and are acquainted with all my ways."

The Lord of the ages knows everything about each person's journey.
The Father of wisdom is well aware of our sleeping arrangements.

"Waking or sleeping, Thy presence, my Light!"

His intimate knowledge of each person reveals a God whose unerring precision detects the poison that lodges itself in our thoughts, the bitterness that resides in our hearts, the "chaff" (the unproductivity) that hides itself in our "wheat" (fruitfulness). 

When you and I merely get by in our work, God knows that we are mixing chaff and wheat together. When you and I are unhappy about the promotion that goes to our coworker, the Father knows the bitterness that worms its way inside our hearts. When you and I are premeditating slander, the Lord of lords knows of the poison that we are steadily drinking.

He knows.
He is familiar with our thoughts.
He is well acquainted with all of our ways.

Lenten thought calls us to rend everything to Him; He already knows it all anyway.

Nothing at all is alarming to Him.
Nothing at all is obscured from Him.
Nothing at all is misinterpreted by Him.

He knows.

The Lord knows the ways you and I take every single day, hour, minute, or second. He knows when the path on which we find ourselves is customary or accidental. He knows when the besetting sin we nurse is public or private. He knows when our decisions are based on good or wrong motives.

He knows.

And that is an invitation for us to stand in awe of Him . . .
. . . that we may worship and adore Him.

And that is an invitation for us to find encouragement in Him . . .
. . . that we may courageously take our stand against the devil's schemes.

And that is an invitation for us to live with joy and delight in Him . . .
. . . that we may throw away our mourning clothes and feast upon His victuals.

He knows.

Praise His glorious name!

Lent 2015 Days 11 & 12: Path & Cot

Snow.
Weather.
Hard news.
Cancellations.
Late night talks.

I am not sure what a normal schedule looks like these days. Yesterday, in fact, was particularly unpredictable and thorny causing me to cross a pitiful number of items off of my mile-deep and Eiffel-tower tall checklist. Once again, my desire to achieve finds itself bumping into the reality of the Father's invitation for me to instead receive what He has in store for me.

What a dilemma!

In many ways, my life hasn't been too keen on letting this Lenten season reach a normal, predictable rhythm. A roller coaster ride on many fronts is more like it -- emotionally, physically, spiritually, etc. And like a dazed customer at an amusement park I find myself on this ride never quite ready for the unannounced 90-ft drop that inevitably comes, jolts my heart, and muffles my inner cries.

How I long for calm and peace!

Humbly, I turn to Psalm 139 anew. Eleven full days have come and gone since I began meditating on this psalm -- what a tremendous blessing it has been! -- and on this 12th day I have much comfort as I read up to verse 3:

Psalm 139

To the Choirmaster. A psalm of David.

1  O Lord, You have searched me and known me.

2  You know when I sit down and when I rise up;

You discern my thoughts from afar.

3  You search out my path and my lying down

and are acquainted with all my ways.

I am comforted because Psalm 139 reminds me that this amazing Lord of mine foreknew the pace of these past few days and still saw fit to let me partake in them. He knew about the snow, the bad weather, the hard news, the cancellations, and the late night talks well in advance. He knew everything about me even before the creation of the universe -- my personality, my secret wishes, my innermost thoughts. He knew my desire to achieve feats in my own strength but chose to invite me to receive His feats instead. He knew the nature of my roller coaster life and provided me with His Word which, alone, can shush my storms to a whisper.

Praise His glorious name!

This mysterious Lord observes my path and my cot, my walking and my sleeping. He surrounds me with the shield of His penetrating gaze and encircles all of me (mind, body, spirit) within the boundaries of His perfect wisdom.

Awake?
He sees me.
Asleep?
He searches me.

Straying from His path?
He runs decidedly after me.
Dozing through and forgetting His way?
He slumbers not but remembers me fully.

O, thank You for the shield of Your gaze, O Father. Your boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places. May the path I take and the bed in which I sleep bring honor and glory to Your name! In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen!