“O God, I thank You for this day of life
for eyes to see the sky
for ears to hear the birds
for feet to walk amidst the trees
for hands to pick the flowers from the earth
for a sense of smell to breathe in the sweet
perfumes of nature
for a mind to think about and appreciate
the magic of everyday miracles
for a spirit to swell in joy at Your mighty presence
everywhere” (Marian Wright Edelman)

Actually, it’s a good prayer for any day of the week. Thank God for Every Single Day.

You may or may not have heard the story about the conversation father and his daughter regarding some imitation pearls that she always wore around her neck. She loved those fake pearls. But every night at bedtime, her father asked her to give him those pearls.

She would ask why, but he just said, “Trust me.”

She couldn’t bring herself to give up what she loved so dearly. So every night, the same scenario would play out. Her father would ask for her pearls, she would refuse, and he would tuck her in and tell her he loved her.

Finally, with tears in her eyes, she gave him her pearls. It was like ripping a piece of her heart out, but she handed them over.

He reached behind him and pulled out a box containing a strand of real pearls that he gave her instead. Unbeknownst to her, he had been carrying the box the entire time. She just had to let go of the imitation to receive the real.

In the same way, God sometimes has to say no to what we ask — not because it’s too grand and too much, but because we ask for too little based on our limited perspective. We have to let go of the bad — and sometimes even the good — to make room for something better. Something much bigger and better.

Sometimes, the answer is not yet because we’re not ready yet to receive what God has for us. God knows that getting the gift without the character to handle it would destroy us, so He molds us and waits until we are able to bear what He gives us.

Ultimately, God gives us God. God doesn’t give us anything apart from Himself because there is nothing else that meets the deep longing inside us. God gives God to us.

I’m a sucker for good poetry, especially if it comes with good theology. I heard a poem tonight that practically blew my socks off. It’s such a great representation of Jesus as both the Suffering Servant and the Coming King. To me, it feels like it could have been a hymn:

“He Who wept above the grave,
He Who stilled the raging wave,
Meek to suffer, strong to save,
He shall bear the glory.

He Who sorrow’s pathway trod,
He that every good bestowed—
Son of Man and Son of God—
He shall bear the glory.

He Who bled with scourging sore,
Thorns and scarlet meekly wore,
He Who every sorrow bore—
He shall bear the glory.

Monarch of the smitten cheek,
Scorn of Jew and scorn of Greek,
Priest and King, Divinely meek—
He shall bear the glory.

On the rainbow-circled throne
Mid the myriads of His own,
Nevermore to weep alone—
He shall bear the glory.

Man of slighted Nazareth,
King Who wore the thorny wreath,
Son obedient unto death—
He shall bear the glory.

His the grand eternal weight,
His the priestly-regal state;
Him the Father maketh great—
He shall bear the glory.

He Who died to set us free,
He Who lives and loves e’en me,
He Who comes, Whom I shall see,
Jesus only—only He—
He shall bear the glory” (William Blane).

I ran across the following in an email and thought it spoke beautifully to the process of grieving. And by the way, there is no “right” way or “right” amount of time. Grief is the price of love, and the more you loved and were loved, then the more the grief.

“Elisabeth Elliot was barely 29 years old with a 10-month-old daughter when her husband, Jim, was murdered by the Auca Indians in the rainforest of eastern Ecuador in 1956.

Years later, when writing about grief, she said, ‘Sooner or later, many of us experience the greatest desolation of all: he or she is gone. The one who made life what it was for us — who was, in fact, our life. And we were not ready. Not really prepared at all. We felt, when the fact stared us in the face, ‘No. Not yet.’ For however bravely we may have looked at the possibilities (if we had any warning at all), however calmly we may have talked about them with the one who was about to die, we are caught short. If we had another week, perhaps, to brace ourselves … a few more days to say what we wanted to say, to do or undo some things, wouldn’t it have been better, easier? But silent, swift, and implacable the Scythe has swept by, and he is gone, and we are left.’

How do we explain the pain of grief? C. S. Lewis, in describing the emptiness he felt after his wife died, said, ‘Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.’ If we live long enough, we will all experience grief. And, like Elisabeth Elliot, we will all feel ‘we were not ready. Not really prepared at all. We felt, when the fact stared us in the face, ‘No. Not yet.’ ‘

As Christians, we are assured that we do not ‘grieve as others do who have no hope’ (I Thessalonians 4:13); because we are assured of a resurrection. We learn that in our grief we are like Jesus who was ‘a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief’ (Isaiah 53:3). We are also promised relief from the dull, persistent pain of grief; because Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). At some point in our future, we will find comfort from grief because Jesus guarantees it. 

King David once faced the unbearable grief of the loss of a child. As a result, he turned to God in prayer; and he serves as a wounded model for all of us.”

C. S. Lewis wrote a wonderful little book called A Grief Observed after he lost his wife Joy. It’s one of the most raw, transparent and honest books I’ve ever read in my life. I can’t recommend it enough.

God is bigger than my problems.

It sounds kinda Captain Obvious, but sometimes it’s easy for me to focus on the problem and not on the Problem Solver. I can get fixated on the wind and the waves and forget to look for the one walking on the water.

The problems look big. Sometimes, they’re all we can see. They take up so much of our sight, our time, our energy, our resources. It’s easy to forget that God is bigger. Even if whatever we’re facing is the size of the sun, remember that the sun is a speck in light of the universe. So is your problem next to an infinite God. It’s a grain of sand on the beach. A single star out of the night sky.

Even when the problem seems to go on and on, remember that God was before the problem (from eternity past) and will be after the problem (to eternity future). He is eternally before and after whatever you’re facing. To God, a thousand years is like a second, so my big huge dilemma that occupies so much of my waking life is like the blink of an eye to God. Less than the blink of an eye.

Better still, God knows. It’s one thing if God is so far above my problems that He’s oblivious to them, but He sees me. He sees the tiniest sparrow falling. He sees the hurt and suffering of every one of His children.

Whether God calms your storm or calms you in the storm, He is with you. Whether God removes your hardships or gives you grace to endure, He is with you.

And He is still bigger.

Do you ever get songs stuck in your head? If you’re me, then yes. All of the time. ALL. OF. THE. TIME.

I literally have songs playing in my head non-stop from when I wake up until I go to bed at night.

It’s nice when the song is a worship song. Recently, I had the song Always running through my brain. It’s from 2011, so it’s not super old school, but the words are great. I’m putting the entire song on here for your edification, but the main part that ran through my head was “I will not fear the war/ I will not fear the storm/ My help is on the way/ My help is on the way.”

My pastor said recently that one way to keep a mind set on the Spirit was to play praise music throughout the day. You can also listen to Christian radio or streaming. Or you can be old school like me and pop in a CD.

Here are the lyrics as promised, written by Jason Ingram and Kristian Stanfill:

“Verse 1

My foes are many
They rise against me
But I will hold my ground
I will not fear the war
I will not fear the storm
My help is on the way
My help is on the way

Chorus

Oh my God He will not delay
My refuge and strength always
I will not fear
His promise is true
My God will come through
Always always

Verse 2

Troubles surround me
Chaos abounding
My soul will rest in You
I will not fear the war
I will not fear the storm
My help is on the way
My help is on the way

Chorus

Oh my God He will not delay
My refuge and strength always
I will not fear
His promise is true
My God will come through
Always always

Bridge

I lift my eyes up
My help comes from the Lord
I lift my eyes up
My help comes from the Lord

Chorus

Oh my God He will not delay
My refuge and strength always
I will not fear
His promise is true
My God will come through
Always always

Tag

Oh my God He will not delay
My refuge and strength always
Always”

At one point I was not a fan of the vinyl revival. I stuck to my CDs and thought those who were into records again were purist snobs. Plus, I thought the new vinyl was crazy expensive.

I get it now.

A couple of years ago, I got a turntable for Christmas and then my musical OCD kicked in, and it has been game on ever since.

There’s something special about dropping the needle on a record that brings back once dormant memories for me. Hearing the warm analog sounds wafting from my speakers makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

Plus, there’s the hunt. There’s finding a good record store and then searching out for a good find. Recently, I picked up Kate Bush at Barnes and Noble. Then a day later I ventured over to Luna Records inside the Factory in Franklin and found two more — one Petra and one Joni Mitchell.

When it comes to musical tastes, there are pretty much three categories: 1) normal, 2) eclectic, and 3) they should make pills for this.

I think I fall under category 3 because I am a fan of just about every genre there is. I personally am not a fan of most rap or uber heavy metal music (the kind where the singer sounds like he’s gargling with razor blades and singing at the same time). But I like everything else. Oh, and I’m not as much into most pop or country music after the year 2000. But I like everything else.

Sometimes, I believe my cat thinks I have lost my mind.

I can think of so many scenarios that I would much rather skip. If I had my way, I’d avoid things like child trafficking, slave trafficking, crime, drugs, and wars. On a more personal level, I’d much rather not face things like work stress, health issues, the death of a loved one, or anxiety in general.

But God allows these things for a reason. God never promises us a life free of suffering and pain. God never said if we trusted Him and prayed the right words, He’d take us and transport us over and past the hardships.

What He said and what He promised is that He would be with us in the middle of the hard things. He promised that if we held on with the faith of a mustard seed, He’d be our Prince of peace and give us peace beyond human understanding. We can be brave because we won’t ever face anything that Jesus hasn’t already overcome on the cross.

I’m reading through Job currently. I see Job declared as a righteous man. I see God allowing Job to suffer. I see Job railing at God, questioning God, wrestling with God. But in all the chapters not once did Job quit going to God. Even if it was to yell and scream at God, Job still went to God. As a writer once pointed out, you can’t wrestle with something far off. You can only wrestle with something up close and personal.

In the end, God set Job straight on a few points, but God also rewarded Job for his faithfulness. Job held on to his faith, though almost non-existent at times, and saw God past the end of his suffering.

Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s being scared to death all the way and still going forward and trusting a God that you might not be able to see or hear at the moment but you know He’s there because He said He’s not going anywhere.

I think instead of using T. G. I. F., from now on I’m using T. G. F. E. D.

As you know, T. G. I. F. stands for Thank God It’s Friday. It means that you’ve made it to another weekend. It implies that Monday through Thursday aren’t really life, but just days we survive to get to the good stuff — the weekend.

The only problem with that is that those week days tend to drag and then the weekend days fly by. It’s like Mooooooooooonday, Tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuesday, Weeeeeeeeeeeendnesday, Thuuuuuuuuuuursay, FridaySaturdaySunday.

I think a better acronym is T. G. F. E. D. That stands for Thank God for Every Day. I’m sure someone somewhere has used it before, so I can’t claim it as original. But I can live it.

The old adage goes that not every day is good but there is good in every day. Every day has value, and every day is a new opportunity.

I don’t want to get to the end of my life having only really lived 3/7 of my existence. I don’t want to say that I really enjoyed less than half of my days.

T. G. I. F. takes a lot for granted. It assumes you get a Monday through Thursday. It assumes that you can auto-pilot through those four days and then really pay attention to the next three.

T. G. F. E. D. is a mindset where each day is a gift. You understand that the only reason you’re alive to experience each day is because God chose to wake you up. You’re too busy being grateful to even think about mailing in a Monday or taking Tuesday for granted or wasting your Wednesdays.

Each day is a blessing. Another old adage says that the day you’re living in is referred to as the present because it’s a gift. No one is entitled to tomorrow. No one automatically gets another 24 hours.

So live each day to the fullest. You can live like you were dying, like the song says, or you can live like you get to be alive today. Either way, thank God for every day you get.

I’m learning that when the Bible calls us sheep, it’s not so much a compliment. Sheep are kinda dumb. They will wander off, get lost, fall into water, and generally make poor choices. They’re pretty much helpless without a shepherd.

But the Good Shepherd in the Bible loves His sheep. Not because of their inherent goodness or intelligence or charm. He loves them because He is the shepherd and they — we — are His sheep.

That takes a load off my mind, because my job isn’t to navigate my future and anticipate every possible danger that may or may not come my way. It’s not to worry about what grass is safe to eat and what streams are safe to drink from.

My job is to trust the Shepherd. That’s it. If I read Psalm 23 correctly, He’s the one who supplies all my needs, leads me to green pastures and still waters, guides me in right paths, and leads me through dangerous valleys. I only have to heed His voice and follow.

I still love how Psalm 23 starts off in the third person — He leads, He guides, He restores. But then it changes to second person — You prepare, You anoint. The point where the change happens is in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death. That’s where the Shepherd becomes personal and my faith goes from theoretical to practical, from head assent to heart assurance.

When you trust the Shepherd and follow the Shepherd, you come to know the Shepherd and learn His heart. That’s the best part.