praying to see
October 14, 2018
Psalms 90: 12-17
I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m glad this past week is over. I’m sure we’ve all had weeks we just needed to end because we believed, we hoped, that a new week would make life feel better. That is what last week felt like for me, and in this newfound world where people talk about celebrating their birthweek, not just their birthday, needing last week to end wasn’t what I hoped for when Monday rolled around. I don’t exactly know what I wanted, nor have I been able to fully put to words, or maybe I don’t like the words I’ve come up with so far as to why last week was so hard on me, but right from Monday’s starting whistle, nothing seemed right. Fast forward to Thursday afternoon and Hurricane Michael. In many ways I was lucky that minutes before it hit, I returned to the Church. Tommy Venable came into the Fellowship Hall shortly after I returned because he and I, along with others, have been trying to figure out why our Fellowship Hall has experienced so much flooding, but at that point there was no water coming in so Tommy left. Not five minutes after heft left, the rainwater began pouring in and like a headless chicken I began doing everything I could to push the ever-increasing levels of water out. I wasn’t as successful as I had hoped. Luckily, for me and our Fellowship Hall, I was able to get in touch with Becky and Lawrence, so they came as fast as they could and as we worked to prevent the type of flooding we experienced with Hurricane Florence, we lost power. Not to be deterred, we kept working because Lawrence, who may be better known as the man who always has whatever you need, popped out a flashlight and our work continued. After discovering and putting a temporary fix on at least one of the issues, I made my way to the place I call home, but this time my traveling looked different because this time I was traveling through a City without power. No lights anywhere, which was odd at first, but as daylight ended, living without seeing wasn’t fun.
I suspect being able to see is not something many of us here today have ever thought about. Seeing is something we take for granted, and when we can’t see we get bothered. So, bothered, that our moods tend to change, and not for the better. We get agitated and just want our lives to return to “normal”. When I went to sleep Thursday night, I told myself power would come back on during the night, only every time I woke up during the night, power had not been restored. When Friday rolled around, and the lights still didn’t work in our home my initial thought was, “Really. Well surely the power will be restored pretty quickly today.” Friday evening, I checked in with Amy because I was at the Church where the power had been restored, and she confirmed we still didn’t have power at our house. So, in trying to figure out what to do, I reached out to Chic, because a few days before he let us borrow his new generator for a surprise 70th birthday party for my mother-in-law, Bobbie, and he graciously agreed to let me borrow it again so that I could restore some power in our home. This gift allowed us to resume some normalcy. For one, we could see each other even when the sun had gone down and it was completely dark outside. This restoration of light was critical to our decision to stay home instead of “moving in” with my Mom & Tom until full power was restored at our house. And while I’m sure Mom & Tom would have welcomed us, I have found there is something quite comforting about being in your own home… As long as you can see, that is.
*******************************
Not that I needed to be reminded of this, but the inability to see isn’t fun. In fact, we tend to rely on our ability to see, both physically and figuratively, and when we can’t anxiety ensues. Sight is something we both expect and something most of us take for granted. Not only do we expect it from ourselves, we expect of others. Just consider a question we were asked when we were younger and that we in turn ask those who follow, what are you going to be when you grow up. This question always assumes the ability to see, and not just see what is physically in front of you but see into the future in some figurative way. And when we don’t know the answer, we tend of get stressed because you see the question itself actually presumes everyone will have an answer, and when we feel like we don’t have one, sometimes we just make one up. Questions like these place us in the position of being both the observer (the one who sees) and the actor (the one doing the work). There is no room for anyone else to do anything when we fill every role there is, and maybe that is why being asked to see God actively working in the world is so hard. Yet, seeing God’s work is something I bet all of us want. I know the psalmist wanted it. Just look again at verse 16 “Let your work be manifest to your servants…” Seeing God’s work in the present is so important to the Psalmist that it is included in the prayer. He is asking God for eyes to see God’s work because if you read the whole psalm you will discover that the Psalmist knows a lot about fighting a hard battle. This cry for seeing God’s work comes on the heels of affliction. God give us eyes to see you are good. God gives us eyes to see your work in this world because we have experienced too much evil… too much affliction. God have compassion on us by giving us eyes to see your work because I know our days are numbered and we want to rejoice and be glad in them. God, please give us eyes to see!
******************************
These verses inspire us to live with joy and hope especially since we never know when life could change or end. Precisely because of this brevity of life, it is all the more important that we enjoy the time we are given on earth and trust me this is something yours truly needs to learn again and again and again. There is a freedom in learning and re-learning this lesson because once we realize we are not in control “…we can live life to the fullest, loving and serving with joyous abandon, trusting God to use us to further God’s vision for creation.”[1]
It is important that we understand God is still at work, at this very moment, to bring healing, wholeness, and reconciliation. It is even more important when we can’t seem to find the eyes to see it.
On any given day, we are fighting great battles—illness, unemployment, isolation, poverty, addiction, grief, failed marriages. These are just a few of the struggles that we face. Psalm 90, without minimizing the gravity and reality of these hardships can turn our eyes toward God and God’s unique presence. The thing is to be able to see, we must first try to look and when we do, I bet we will see God’s merciful work all around us.”[2]
********************************
Last night Amy & I went to see Billy Joel in concert over at Wake Forest. It was a great show, and great experience. We were with her parents and at one point her dad leaned over and said something to Amy. Then Amy turned to me and said, Daddy wants you to listen to the words of this song because this song will preach. So, I did. Amy and I even looked the lyrics up while he was singing and like most of the time Mike was right. Ironically, I had never truly listened to the story this song was telling until last night. It seemed for once I was doing what my Dad always did and listened to the music… the tune. It is a catchy, upbeat tune, which might explain why I hadn’t listened to the story, even though I could sing most of the words. It is a story of faith and doubt. It is a story of searching for dreams, while being blind. It is a story for all of us, including the psalmist, and when we are brutally honest it is more than a story for us, it is our story. So instead of listening to me tell you the story, lets end this time together by listening to Billy Joel tell it and when you do, try your best to really listen.
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
From the mountains of faith
To a river so deep
I must be looking for something
Something sacred I lost
But the river is wide
And it's too hard to cross
And even though I know the river is wide
I walk down every evening and I stand on the shore
And try to cross to the opposite side
So I can finally find out what I've been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the valley of fear
To a river so deep
And I've been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I would never lose
Something somebody stole
I don't know why I go walking at night
But now I'm tired and I don't want to walk anymore
I hope it doesn't take the rest of my life
Until I find what it is that I've been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the jungle of doubt
To a river so deep
I know I'm searching for something
Something so undefined
That it can only be seen
By the eyes of the blind
In the middle of the night
I'm not sure about a life after this
God knows I've never been a spiritual man
Baptized by the fire, I wade into the river
That runs to the promised land
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the desert of truth
To the river so deep
We all end in the ocean
We all start in the streams
We're all carried along
By the river of dreams
In the middle of the night
Amen!
[1] Klingensmith, Leslie A., Feasting on the Word Commentary, Psalm 90:12-17, Homiletical Perspective
[2] Id.
Psalms 90: 12-17
I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m glad this past week is over. I’m sure we’ve all had weeks we just needed to end because we believed, we hoped, that a new week would make life feel better. That is what last week felt like for me, and in this newfound world where people talk about celebrating their birthweek, not just their birthday, needing last week to end wasn’t what I hoped for when Monday rolled around. I don’t exactly know what I wanted, nor have I been able to fully put to words, or maybe I don’t like the words I’ve come up with so far as to why last week was so hard on me, but right from Monday’s starting whistle, nothing seemed right. Fast forward to Thursday afternoon and Hurricane Michael. In many ways I was lucky that minutes before it hit, I returned to the Church. Tommy Venable came into the Fellowship Hall shortly after I returned because he and I, along with others, have been trying to figure out why our Fellowship Hall has experienced so much flooding, but at that point there was no water coming in so Tommy left. Not five minutes after heft left, the rainwater began pouring in and like a headless chicken I began doing everything I could to push the ever-increasing levels of water out. I wasn’t as successful as I had hoped. Luckily, for me and our Fellowship Hall, I was able to get in touch with Becky and Lawrence, so they came as fast as they could and as we worked to prevent the type of flooding we experienced with Hurricane Florence, we lost power. Not to be deterred, we kept working because Lawrence, who may be better known as the man who always has whatever you need, popped out a flashlight and our work continued. After discovering and putting a temporary fix on at least one of the issues, I made my way to the place I call home, but this time my traveling looked different because this time I was traveling through a City without power. No lights anywhere, which was odd at first, but as daylight ended, living without seeing wasn’t fun.
I suspect being able to see is not something many of us here today have ever thought about. Seeing is something we take for granted, and when we can’t see we get bothered. So, bothered, that our moods tend to change, and not for the better. We get agitated and just want our lives to return to “normal”. When I went to sleep Thursday night, I told myself power would come back on during the night, only every time I woke up during the night, power had not been restored. When Friday rolled around, and the lights still didn’t work in our home my initial thought was, “Really. Well surely the power will be restored pretty quickly today.” Friday evening, I checked in with Amy because I was at the Church where the power had been restored, and she confirmed we still didn’t have power at our house. So, in trying to figure out what to do, I reached out to Chic, because a few days before he let us borrow his new generator for a surprise 70th birthday party for my mother-in-law, Bobbie, and he graciously agreed to let me borrow it again so that I could restore some power in our home. This gift allowed us to resume some normalcy. For one, we could see each other even when the sun had gone down and it was completely dark outside. This restoration of light was critical to our decision to stay home instead of “moving in” with my Mom & Tom until full power was restored at our house. And while I’m sure Mom & Tom would have welcomed us, I have found there is something quite comforting about being in your own home… As long as you can see, that is.
*******************************
Not that I needed to be reminded of this, but the inability to see isn’t fun. In fact, we tend to rely on our ability to see, both physically and figuratively, and when we can’t anxiety ensues. Sight is something we both expect and something most of us take for granted. Not only do we expect it from ourselves, we expect of others. Just consider a question we were asked when we were younger and that we in turn ask those who follow, what are you going to be when you grow up. This question always assumes the ability to see, and not just see what is physically in front of you but see into the future in some figurative way. And when we don’t know the answer, we tend of get stressed because you see the question itself actually presumes everyone will have an answer, and when we feel like we don’t have one, sometimes we just make one up. Questions like these place us in the position of being both the observer (the one who sees) and the actor (the one doing the work). There is no room for anyone else to do anything when we fill every role there is, and maybe that is why being asked to see God actively working in the world is so hard. Yet, seeing God’s work is something I bet all of us want. I know the psalmist wanted it. Just look again at verse 16 “Let your work be manifest to your servants…” Seeing God’s work in the present is so important to the Psalmist that it is included in the prayer. He is asking God for eyes to see God’s work because if you read the whole psalm you will discover that the Psalmist knows a lot about fighting a hard battle. This cry for seeing God’s work comes on the heels of affliction. God give us eyes to see you are good. God gives us eyes to see your work in this world because we have experienced too much evil… too much affliction. God have compassion on us by giving us eyes to see your work because I know our days are numbered and we want to rejoice and be glad in them. God, please give us eyes to see!
******************************
These verses inspire us to live with joy and hope especially since we never know when life could change or end. Precisely because of this brevity of life, it is all the more important that we enjoy the time we are given on earth and trust me this is something yours truly needs to learn again and again and again. There is a freedom in learning and re-learning this lesson because once we realize we are not in control “…we can live life to the fullest, loving and serving with joyous abandon, trusting God to use us to further God’s vision for creation.”[1]
It is important that we understand God is still at work, at this very moment, to bring healing, wholeness, and reconciliation. It is even more important when we can’t seem to find the eyes to see it.
On any given day, we are fighting great battles—illness, unemployment, isolation, poverty, addiction, grief, failed marriages. These are just a few of the struggles that we face. Psalm 90, without minimizing the gravity and reality of these hardships can turn our eyes toward God and God’s unique presence. The thing is to be able to see, we must first try to look and when we do, I bet we will see God’s merciful work all around us.”[2]
********************************
Last night Amy & I went to see Billy Joel in concert over at Wake Forest. It was a great show, and great experience. We were with her parents and at one point her dad leaned over and said something to Amy. Then Amy turned to me and said, Daddy wants you to listen to the words of this song because this song will preach. So, I did. Amy and I even looked the lyrics up while he was singing and like most of the time Mike was right. Ironically, I had never truly listened to the story this song was telling until last night. It seemed for once I was doing what my Dad always did and listened to the music… the tune. It is a catchy, upbeat tune, which might explain why I hadn’t listened to the story, even though I could sing most of the words. It is a story of faith and doubt. It is a story of searching for dreams, while being blind. It is a story for all of us, including the psalmist, and when we are brutally honest it is more than a story for us, it is our story. So instead of listening to me tell you the story, lets end this time together by listening to Billy Joel tell it and when you do, try your best to really listen.
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
From the mountains of faith
To a river so deep
I must be looking for something
Something sacred I lost
But the river is wide
And it's too hard to cross
And even though I know the river is wide
I walk down every evening and I stand on the shore
And try to cross to the opposite side
So I can finally find out what I've been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the valley of fear
To a river so deep
And I've been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I would never lose
Something somebody stole
I don't know why I go walking at night
But now I'm tired and I don't want to walk anymore
I hope it doesn't take the rest of my life
Until I find what it is that I've been looking for
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the jungle of doubt
To a river so deep
I know I'm searching for something
Something so undefined
That it can only be seen
By the eyes of the blind
In the middle of the night
I'm not sure about a life after this
God knows I've never been a spiritual man
Baptized by the fire, I wade into the river
That runs to the promised land
In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
Through the desert of truth
To the river so deep
We all end in the ocean
We all start in the streams
We're all carried along
By the river of dreams
In the middle of the night
Amen!
[1] Klingensmith, Leslie A., Feasting on the Word Commentary, Psalm 90:12-17, Homiletical Perspective
[2] Id.
