As I was growing up, there were predictabilities that gave me comfort. One of them was my Dad’s nightly ritual. He was usually the last one to bed, and many times I could hear him as he finished his nightly duties. He would turn off the TV, climb the stairs to the kitchen and usually place a dish or glass in the sink. Then he would check to be sure the doors were locked and turn on the night light in the kitchen before going to his bedroom. There he would usually find my mother sound asleep, holding a book upright on her lap. We still tease her about doing that. He would gently pull the book from her hands and turn off her lamp before slipping into bed. Knowing he did those things every night gave me a great sense of security and peace.
Recently I was amused to find the same ritual has developed in our house. That night, I checked the doors, turned on the night light and opened the bedroom door to find my wife asleep holding a book. I couldn’t help but chuckle and even tear up a bit. “It’s my turn now,” I thought. Sometimes, Jina stays up longer than I do. About half of those times, I wake in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. I’ll find her asleep in the recliner and then help her to bed.
I have pretty good night vision and a really good map of the house in my head. So, I usually walk around in the dark without any trouble. The other night, the ritual took an unusual turn. I had been repairing a chair and for some reason had left it lying on its side near the front door. As I went to lock up, I walked full stride into the chair. Instantly, pain screamed at me… a toe… a knee… the shin on the other leg…the same shin I had badly bruised several weeks before… they all cried out.
I don’t typically curse, even when something bad happens. Occasionally, if it’s bad enough, I’ll cartoon curse: “Snaggafragga…” If I’m with people, I’ll sometimes King James curse: “Verily, verily, behold that hurteth.” When it’s really bad, I might Christian curse: “Son of a Baptist.” But usually I just writhe around and moan. I don’t remember saying anything that night, perhaps because I didn’t want to wake Jina, but it was a moment worthy of a curse. It really hurt.
The next day was Sunday, and I had forgotten the chair incident. But as I led worship that day, I was awestruck by God once again. We opened with the song, “God of Wonders”, and as we sang the words, “When I stumble in the darkness, I will call your name by night…” I was reminded of the chair. My spiritual eyes went wide, and even as we continued to sing, the meaning began to sink in. “How can that be?” I wondered. “Is it possible for my first thought in that situation to be of my Lord?”
It’s so easy for my reaction to be anger or frustration and to curse the chair or even my own stupidity. But those lyrics are suggesting that my first thought can be to call out to my Lord. Wouldn’t that be something. What a great place to be. I want to be in that place where I am so close to my Savior that I see Him standing next to me all the time. There to catch me and comfort me. To cheer me up and cheer me on. Whatever comes my way, I want my heart to fly to my Him.
Psalm 34:17-18
"The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears, and delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit."
Isaiah 40:28-31
"Do you not know? Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God, the Creator of the whole earth. He never grows faint or weary; there is no limit to His understanding. He gives strength to the weary and strengthens the powerless. Youths may faint and grow weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint."
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