Whispers of Truth

I long for a heart like David’s after God’s own heart, but Solomon’s story offers me hope. For many years as I have read in the Old Testament it has disturbed me, Solomon’s lapse in following after God whole-heartedly (unlike his father before him), his taking on the ways of the world when the God of the universe was steadfastly on his side. Don’t misunderstand me, the hope I have isn’t in Solomon but rather in God’s affirmation to his servant David that He would bless him through Solomon to the point that not only would Solomon build the house David longed to build for God, but God would be a father to Solomon and his son and wouldn’t take away His steadfast love and mercy from him as He had done from Saul who was rejected by God when he strayed: I declare to you [David] that the Lord will build you a house: when your days have been completed and you must join your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you who will be one of your own sons, and I will establish his kingdo

Recently I had a chance to sit down with some very dear women that I love for a meal. In the course of our conversation, I asked how their daily reading from Scripture was going and found that the discouragement of exhaustion had overpowered their strong desire to spend time daily with Him. I know that their desire to spend time in the Word daily is real, and I have seen the same women energized by it in the past. Their current discouragement felt very familiar to me as I have had the same struggle with time and energy and where to use the little bit I had when I was also working full time and raising children and trying desperately to somehow manage my home, too, while being the wife my husband deserved and needed.  Every time I would think that if I just got up earlier I could make it work, the kids would get up earlier too, taking away the time I had set aside. When I would think I could just stay up later, I would either get distracted by my house that also needed my attention or f

As I read of the refreshing dew flowing down from Mount Hermon in Ps. 133, I can almost feel its cooling touch. Living in the Deep South, maybe it is easier to picture for me than for those in cooler climes. I think about this as summer grows nearer and the thermometer begins to rise--soon it will feel almost unbearable to walk outside. Summers here are moist but seem scorching in their intensity, leaving the one outside for any length of time longing for cool relief. Even a Coke can with the moist condensation kissing the outside is wonderfully refreshing, pressed against the forehead in the heat of summer. But I let myself digress as I wonder what Mount Hermon is like when in reality the Psalm is about the wonderful unity of living at peace with brothers. The picture of the wonderfulness of dew on a dry, desert mountain just helps me understand better. Maybe that longing for living at peace with others is something I can understand much less intensely than David, not having grown up

“I intend that my mouth will not transgress” (Ps. 17:3d). Then I open my mouth.   Depending on the situation, I am too soft spoken, too brash, too loud, too bashful, too confident, too insecure, too, too, too . . . and I sin. Often. When I open my mouth. So I intend that my mouth will not be opened, no matter what.  Then my mouth opens anyway as if of its own accord. And words come out. Even when words don’t come out, there are thoughts lurking in there waiting to burst forth, indignant words full of hurt, self-righteousness, and arrogance, angry thoughts exploding at the seams with all the sin contained in my flesh. Selfish thoughts with single-minded focus on winning. And so I decide the flesh is the problem.  I know this truth. As long as I dwell in this flesh, this mortal body, there will be this constant struggle between what I want to be, what I know is the standard, what I long for, and the reality of the battle of spirit and flesh within me. So I soak in the Word daily li