Thoughts on Psalm 121:7-8

Since I inadvertently wrote about the wrong passage for a Fighter Verse blog post, here are some unsolicited thoughts on Psalm 121:7-8. 😏

The Kept and the Keeper

The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.—Psalm 121:7-8

If the psalms are songs, then perhaps we may consider this to be the great crescendo and finale of Psalm 121. And the note that is struck over and over in this finale is the precious note of “keep.”

Remember the first words of this psalm? “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?” This song of ascents begins with the question of finding our help, but it closes with a rhythmic, repeated refrain of the One whose eyes are ever on us.

Shamar, “keep,” has the idea of guarding, protecting, attending to, watching over. And life in this fallen world holds many perils. What kind of keeping does God grant his own?

The LORD will keep you from all evil. No greater blanket of security could cover us in this world of fallenness, brokenness, and sin than this. “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). There is great evil in the world. But unfortunately, our trouble is not simply external to us. As Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” So this “keeping” promise hints at a most precious deliverance. In perfect faithfulness, God has purposed to deliver us not only from evil schemes of others but to provide a Redeemer who would make a way for eternal joy and deliverance from our own sin.

He will keep your life. We see another hint here at the depth of “keeping” God provides. “Life” is also translated “soul.” Our Keeper is so strong that he guards and attends to the deepest needs of our heart. Are you facing grave adversity? Are you staring down the reality of death and the grave? These verses give an unshakable anchor. The LORD is not too weak to keep our life. Even in deepest darkness, he will keep our soul. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23:4). When all around my soul gives way, he then is all my hope and stay (Edward Mote, “The Solid Rock”).

The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore. God’s care is both cosmic and close. Recall from verse 3, he guards each step of your foot. “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Matthew 10:30). You will never go beyond the scope of his keeping gaze. “If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me” (Psalm 139:9-10). His keeping is constant, and his keeping is eternal, “from this time forth and forevermore.”

The security of our keeping depends on the nature of our Keeper. So let’s revel and rest in the truth that the LORD is our keeper (Psalm 121:5), and by his own saving hand, we are kept this moment and forevermore.

Discussion Questions:

·       What do you find the greatest threat to your life or hope? How has God provided a “keeping” grace for you at that very point of need?

·       What is the most precious aspect of “keeping” to you today? How can you praise God for his perfect protection and attentiveness to every need of your heart?

What Is God Doing?

God rules over all. Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above. He holds all things together by the word of His power. There are no rogue molecules, acting out of order from His purpose or plan. Of course, these truths are the deepest bedrock of joy in all the beautiful moments and gifts of each day.

But sometimes in our weakness, in our suffering and pain, the reality that God is in charge .... that He could change this in a second if He chose ... that He is the hand giving the hardship ... it brings its own temptation to question and wonder. What is God doing, anyway? He says He loves us. He calls us to pray and promises to answer. He says He cares about our cares. So why isn't He doing anything? The suffering itself gets layered with the weight of hopelessness, cynicism, despair.


The enemy would just love for us to take the lie, hook, line, and sinker: This is all totally pointless.

There are plenty of times when we can't actually see what God is up to in the middle of our trial. So let's build an arsenal of evidence, a smorgasbord of possibilities, a pile of reasons to stand in confidence in the middle of the pain.

What might God be doing in your difficulty, your pain and loss, your suffering? Here is a sampling of 31 possibilities from God's word (one for every day of the month!):

1. Starting a new church (Galatians 4:13)
2. Giving an opportunity for someone else to love you like Jesus Christ Himself (Galatians 4:14)
3. Blessing others (Galatians 4:15)
4. Filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of His body, the church (Colossians 1: 24)
5. Producing even greater progress of the gospel (Philippians 1:12)
6. Giving others far more courage to speak the word of God without fear (Philippians 1:14)
7. Multiplying thanks to God by joining together many peoples' prayers for your help and deliverance (2 Corinthians 1:10-11)
8. Comforting and saving others (2 Corinthians 1:6)
9. Helping you learn God's statutes (Psalm 119:71)
10. Helping you keep God's word (Psalm 119:67)
11. Proving that God is with you in trouble (Psalm 91:15)
12. Perfecting you (1 Peter 5:10)
13. Confirming you (1 Peter 5:10)
14. Strengthening you (1 Peter 5:10)
15. Establishing you (1 Peter 5:10)
16. Giving you the opportunity to entrust your soul to a faithful Creator in doing what is right (1 Peter 4:19) 
17. Testing you (1 Peter 4:12)
18. Producing for you an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison (2 Corinthians 4:17)
19. Granting approval so that you may receive the crown of life (James 1:12)
20. Giving endurance (James 1:3)
21. Making you perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (James 1:4)
22. Protecting you from friendship with the world that would make you an enemy of God (James 4:4)
23. Leading you to prayer (James 5:13)
24. Giving a blessing (James 5:11)
25. Giving you great reward in heaven (Matthew 5:12)
26. Saving many, many lives (Genesis 50:20)
27. Allowing you to receive comfort so that you may give comfort to others in their suffering (2 Corinthians 1:4)
28. Proving the foundation of your life (Matthew 7:25)
29. Disciplining you as His own precious child (Hebrews 12:7)
30.  Demonstrating to the watching world that you have a hope that is not based on circumstances or comfort (1 Peter 3:15)
31. Overcoming the accuser of the brethren (Revelation 12:11)

Stand firm in faith. God is for you. He is working. His hand is writing your specific story in a way that will one day bring our hearts to wonder and worship. One day we will see.

Parenting Thoughts

A friend asked me today for some thoughts on parenting, what kind of biblical guidelines or principles do we follow. Since I wrote it down, I thought I would share it here. (This is just the tip of the iceberg, what came to mind when I had a few minutes to write...)

One of our biggest parenting "paradigms" is that we are trying to be an early image or reflection to our children of how God is. He is the Father "from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name" (Eph 3:15). And the most important thing that we want to give our children (although it is impossible for us to give it to our children unless God gives it to our children) is a knowledge of, love for, and trust in our beautiful Savior Jesus. 

He is faithful, so we strive to keep our word.

He is kind, so we want to be gracious and gentle.

He is generous, so we love to lavish our kids with good things.

He is awesome and holy and sovereign over all creation, so we must not allow our children to disregard or belittle the authority that God has put over them, namely, us parents.

When God gives commands to His creatures, it is never for insignificant or capricious reasons. It is for our good, for our protection, for our abundant life. In our parenting, we want to reflect the same purposing for good when we give instructions or restrictions. 

And for the same reason--because obeying God is essential for knowing full joy and eternal abundance of life--when our children disobey or disregard our instructions, we find it important to address the failure and, when needed, follow up with discipline. 

God's words are utterly trustworthy. And so it is important that (as much as is humanly possible), our Yes means yes, and our No means no (James 5:12), without games of counting to ten or bluffing with impossible threats of what will happen if a child does not comply.

Parenting is a tremendous responsibility and calling. We do it "as seems best to us" (Heb 12:10), and so frequently we feel (and are) woefully inadequate to perceive and respond rightly to the needs of the young hearts we are striving to shepherd. But what a kind Father we have, who supplies wisdom when we lack it (James 1:5), who set His love on us (1 John 3:1), and who has given the Savior and Mediator that our children need (1 Timothy 2:4-6).

The Song We Will Sing

There is a song we will sing one day,
That will set our hearts aflame with joy.
A song we cannot finish yet
But one day will. One day we will.

There is a song we will sing one day
About the pain that breaks our hearts.
The notes are bitter, aching pain,
The song we sing, unfinished song,
The song that groans and weeps today.

There is a song we sing today
Of unfinished stories, empty arms,
A song about the dreams that broke,
The hope that flew to somewhere else,
The end of what never began.

There is a song we will sing one day
Triumphant, tender, full of awe,
A tragedy turned inside out
And set to song, a soaring song.
There is a song we will sing one day,
Sing together, laugh out loud
At how impossibly beautiful
He made our song, our final song.

Elliot's Birth Story

Dear Elliot,

As is often the case, your coming was an adventure!

The last few days before your arrival, I could tell we were getting ready for action. I was not feeling quite normal… lower back aching, sporadic contractions, and generally kind of icky. On Wednesday, Grammy and Grandad checked in to see how things were going, and they decided to get their bases covered at home and come up on Thursday, even though there wasn’t any real activity going on.

Thursday Daddy went to class, and your big brothers and I decided to go walk around Burnsville Center, ride on the toy cars there, and have a little treat. (A flashback to the day before Josiah was born.) During afternoon snoozes, Grammy and Grandad arrived, and it was lots of fun to play with them outside and have a nice evening together. Although I felt kind of bad for them to change their plans and come up before there was any real labor news, it was a relief to have some extra help around already. Grandad joked that midnight on Friday morning was a full moon.

That night, I woke up with a fairly hard contraction around 11pm, and then another came around midnight. For the next hour or so, the contractions were every 20 min, then 15, then 10. They weren’t super hard, though, so I was debating whether to call my doctor. (But I tested positive for the Type B Strep, so they wanted me to get 4 hours of antibiotics during labor, so my doctor had warned me not to wait too long… especially since this was baby #3.) Then I noticed Ben was not in bed.

I went out to the living room to see what he was doing, and he was lying on the floor, massaging his head. He said he’d had a terrible headache since 11:30pm. We decided to go back to bed for a little longer, and I heard his breathing deepen as he fell asleep. But the contractions continued, so I reluctantly went back to the living room, called my doctor, and he said it would probably be good to get checked out at the hospital. So, I called Grammy (they were staying at the Livingstons) and she said they’d put on clothes and head right over. Then I went and woke up poor Daddy, but at least his headache was feeling better by then.

We got to the hospital and settled in to the “maternal assessment” room. After another hour of only moderate, sporadic contractions, I was at “maybe 2.5.” We decided to head home and just go to my scheduled doctor appointment at 8:15am and see what the news was there.

Back at home around 4am, we slept a few hours and then I headed to my normally scheduled checkup. By that time, I was at a 3 or maybe 3.5, but contractions were pretty scattered and short, so we decided to go about our day as normal. Ben went to a coffee shop to do schoolwork, I did a little computer work, and the boys ran some errands with Grandad and Grammy. Around noon I decided to go for a walk, and I got some nice hard contractions doing hills. J It was a beautiful day, and I had sort of forgotten how pleasant it was to take a walk by myself. Back home, contractions died down again.

After a nap on the couch, around 3, I started having some harder contractions. They had come and gone already so much, I pretty much ignored them, but they did seem to be a bit more regular, maybe every 15 min. Ben and I took a walk (which was full of contractions), and then Ben took the boys to a playground while Grandad picked up supper. Around 5, Grammy and I decided to walk out and see the boys, and I was moving very slowly, hard contractions coming quite frequently through the walk. Once we got home and the contractions didn’t slow down, I decided maybe this was the real deal after all, and I told Ben we should probably think about heading to the hospital again. We waited until Grandad got back with supper (because, if possible, a man should go through labor having eaten supper!), but I was definitely ready to go by then.

We got to the hospital around 6:30pm, and this time we were ushered a normal room. It took a long time for a nurse to come and see us, and it was almost time for the “changing of the guard” for shifts, so she said she would just get things started before our real nurse came.  Another nurse came to get things rolling too.

Then she checked me.

“Oh.” 

She double-checked. Then she said to the other nurse, “Um, she’s at about a 9.5.” Well, that was during a contraction, so they decided I was at maybe an 8 otherwise. But the activity in the room picked up considerably.

Oops. Probably not the 4 hours of antibiotics they were hoping for… I thought to myself.

I think that means I don’t get an epidural.

Laboring was a known pain, and the contractions were still spaced a minute or two apart, so I had a little relief between them. I got a fan, which helped a lot, and some nitric oxide, which didn’t.

The doctor arrived, I was fully dilated, about 20 (horrible) min of pushing or so, and at 7:47pm you were here! Your cord was wrapped around your neck, but you cried right away, and what a joy and relief to snuggle you on my chest at last!

We are so thankful for God’s mercy in bringing you to our home and helping us every step of the way!

On Romans 8:38-39

God is sovereign over death.

The moment the cord is broken is never accidental, whether it comes by a long-fought battle with cancer, a freak accident, a ferocious attack, miscarriage, or sweet, silent sleeping into eternity.

God is sovereign over life.

He governs the womb, can close it or open it (even at 90 years old), chooses the moment of new life, weaves every strand of DNA together, sets each family in place with the shape, color, and combination of people He desires. He can preserve life at no effort or expenditure of labor, regardless of any human diagnosis. Near-death experiences are not near anything to Him. Life expectancy is a merely human notion.

God is sovereign over angels.

They do His bidding absolutely and always. They are the mighty ones who do His work, obeying the voice of His word. All the hosts in all places of His dominion are fully under His control. They are ministering spirits, who do what He sends them to do.

God is sovereign over demons.

The enemy forces are strong and thick. They manipulate human hearts and plant lies. They wreak deception, death, and destruction. But if He determines it is time for them to leave a place, they will go. If they would desire something otherwise, they must implore Him (and perhaps He will mercifully send them into a herd of pigs, but only if He so desires).

God is sovereign over the present.

Look around you, at the combination of struggles, pleasures, personalities, gifts, and limitations you experience right now. God has set you in this place. He determines the red lights we hit, the flu virus picked up on a cart handle, the moment of sweetness in a toddler, the pile of dirty dishes that ceaselessly advances, the computer glitches, the pot of hot coffee, the food in the fridge, the pants that are getting a bit too tight.

God is sovereign over the future.

Our imaginations can paint a million pictures of what tomorrow may bring: horrific nightmares of all that could befall us and empty daydreams of how it will go if we have things our way. But our story is written in God's book already. He knows the precise turn of plot that we will face. No experience or struggle will catch Him off guard. No difficulty will come without its predetermined grace and purpose. There are new mercies for each morning, and He knows and holds them all for precisely the right moment.

God is sovereign over all powers.

The manipulations of a boss, the eye of a hurricane, the empty promises of a politician, the repentance of a spouse, the tide that pulls you under or sends you back to shore, the dripping water that slowly erodes, the forces that swirl around us, so far beyond our ability to control or even understand. They are each in His hand. No wind blows except at His bidding. The clouds are the dust of His feet.

God is sovereign over height.

The space shuttle that exploded, the plane that soars, the stars that dance in unfathomable space, the lofty plans of aspiration and ambition, the day when everything just goes right.

God is sovereign over depth.

The secret fish at the bottom of the ocean, the pit of despair you can't even imagine crawling out of, the lost treasure that slowly rusts away from any human eye, the crushed and heart-broken.

God is sovereign over every created thing.

Did something get missed? God is sovereign over it. If it exists, and He made it, then it falls within His realm of authority. The tiniest molecule and cosmic expanses.

And you, the movements of your heart, the secret longings, hidden sins, ability to hunger and thirst after what is good or what is evil. All is in His hand.


And if God is indeed sovereign over all that, then none of it can intervene with His determination to love those whom He has chosen. 

*Sigh* Delayed

So... today was the long-awaited ultrasound! Originally, it was scheduled for this Tuesday, but that was our staff Christmas party, so we delayed until Friday.

Everything was right on schedule, and I pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes early. And then, just as I shifted into park, I had a horrible realization. I wasn't supposed to be at the Burnsville clinic, I was supposed to be at the Edina clinic. When we rescheduled, we had to switch locations too...

I pulled out again and jumped on 35W, calling Ben as I drove.

"Okay, I just realized that we need to be at Edina, not Burnsville," I said.

"Well, actually, I'm already in the waiting room here in Burnsville," he told me.

"Alright, then just ask the receptionist, and she can give you the Edina address, and you can meet me there. Oh, and can you have them call the Edina office and let them know I'm on my way and I'll just be a couple minutes late?"

In vexing fashion, I could not get Siri to locate the Edina address for directions, but I knew I could get very close, and when I hit a stoplight I'd figure it out.

Halfway down 35W, Ben called back.

"Um, they said that you won't be able to do the ultrasound late at Edina, so you should come back here, and maybe they can squeeze you in here," he said.

"Really? I'm only going to be like 5 minutes late," I said.

"That's what they said."

With a sinking feeling, I took the next exit and headed back south on 35W.

Ben called again. "So, they aren't going to be able to fit you in because it's an extra long ultrasound."

The internal wrestling match of frustration and disbelief and disappointment commenced. I ungraciously agreed to go to a coffee shop with Ben for an unplanned date (since we had just left our boys with the babysitter a mere 15 minutes earlier or so) and nursed a cup of ice water without talking much.

But, after time to cool down and look at things reasonably, I can see that this unforeseen delay is really not a big deal. I got a nice long conversation with Ben (a rare opportunity, of late!), and in a week, we can try this all again.

Thankful for kicks in my belly and the surprise that still awaits.

My Best Birthday Gift

Flashback to September. Birthday wishes and kindnesses were very sweet.

But my best birthday gift came two days before my birthday, when (honestly, to my surprise) an efficient technician zoomed in the ultrasound view and detected a precious little heartbeat still fluttering away inside.

* * *

After our miscarriage in June, we were thrilled, elated, delighted, overjoyed, grateful, amazed, and humbled to find ourselves pregnant in August. Again, I suspected right away that something was stirring, but it was a gut-wrenching day-by-day wait, peppered with frequent alarm that the movement had stopped, that I would lose this little one again before we even began to know him.

Finally, a positive pregnancy test. I started feeling gross a week later. And almost three weeks later, an ultrasound, which (somewhat to my dismay) showed that I was not yet even 6 weeks pregnant. But, there was a tiny slow heartbeat, barely detectable.

Both my little boys' pregnancies were survived on Zofran, right up to heading to the hospital. So I waited nervously for the "gross" to turn to "incapacitating" ... but it stayed at just a low-grade gross, according to my earnest prayers for the past many months that God might allow me to come through this pregnancy without such intense sickness.

Day by day slowly passed. (It felt like I spent this whole summer waiting for 6-weeks-pregnant to arrive.) The daily grossness was a reassuring reminder of the reality inside.

And then Tuesday night, in the middle of dinner with company.
Blood.

A flood of memories. Reliving the painful days of June in an instant.

After we said our good-byes to our guest, I just sank into our big blue chair, too drained to move. A call to the ob office.  

Rest tonight, and come in for an ultrasound tomorrow, she said. It may not be another miscarriage.

It was a night-long wrestling match between prayers, fears, threads of hope, and the crushing reality that always, always before, blood means no baby.



I called the office twice at 8:00am, and finally at 8:01am they turned off their answering service and I could at least wait on hold. The nurse couldn't find an opening for an ultrasound and needed to call back after she talked to the techs.

I texted family and the friends who already knew about the baby and waited. An 11:00am ultrasound appointment.

I arrived 10 min early and sat in a full waiting room. Minutes passed, and the room emptied little by little. It was perhaps the longest, hardest, loneliest wait I've had in a doctor's office.

And I dreaded hearing my name called. Dreaded the finality of seeing on the screen a still small body, absent of life.

Psalm 121.
Psalm 34.
Psalm 96.
Isaiah 41:10
Jeremiah 29:11
Fragments of verses and prayers and songs.

I was starting to feel woozy, my half bagel for breakfast too long past. Do you have any crackers? I asked the receptionist. I'm feeling light-headed. 

A few saltines later I felt better and ready to face the next step. Even if today is a sad day, I believe there will be happy days ahead. This is not the end of the story.

11:30am.
11:40am.

"Amy," at last the white-clad technician came for me. She did not smile or make small talk. "So, when did the bleeding start?"

"Last night."

I took a deep breath, looking at the large blank screen facing the reclining table, the screen which would soon reveal ... life or death. 

She didn't speak as she began the scan. I watched the screen, trying to pick out a little dark mass which would be our baby.


There it is. 
So still. 
There should be movement, should be a little flutter there.

My heart sank. So still.
No movement.
No movement.

Then she adjusted her instruments, zoomed in on the little mass. And like a miracle, I thought I saw something move.

She adjusted again. And there, as beautiful a sight as I have ever seen, was a quick, rhythmic flutter.

She measured the little peaks and valleys.
167 beats per minute.

My eyes full of tears, my heart full of gratitude.
167 beats per minute.

 * * *

And that, as I knew with greatest certainty, was all the birthday gift I could ask for.



 

How Much?

Perhaps one of the great realizations coming from these weeks is how much I really expect to be able to hold onto.

Pick up your cross daily and follow Me.
Rejoice always.
Sanctify Christ as Lord in your heart.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

But when it comes right down to it, how much am I willing to let God be God over?

My third baby?
What about babies one and two?
What about my health?
What about my husband?
What about my whole future?

The uncertainty of the future feels risky to me. Why does it feel risky? There is more I stand to lose.

But truly, nothing has changed. The fundamental change is a shift of my focus and perspective. A deeper realization that the God I love and want to follow whole-heartedly knows what is good in ways that do not make sense to me, do not necessarily fit my paradigm.

I cannot change His sovereignty. I would not change it if I could. But will I rest in it, let Him hold all the questions of tomorrow and do with them what He sees best?

Will I find grace, like Jesus, to sleep in the boat while the wind and waves howl around?

May it be.

Divinely Appointed

It's always been a consolation to think that God is continually purposeful, doing millions of things hidden and secret, in the middle of what seems to be big trouble or unanswered prayer.

Sometimes we groan to know some of what He is doing, how He could weave something good from this pain.

In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 1:6-7

At least one thing: proving faith.

Gold is tested by fire. Faith is tested by trials. If I don't throw in the towel, if walking through junk doesn't blow away my confidence in who God says He is, it's because my faith, as wimpy and weak as it sometimes seems, is guarded by the power of God (1 Peter 1:5). That's a comfort.

And the trials come "for a little while." And only "if necessary." God is measures them out for our own special good.

"God sees your life--has seen its future, its weakness, its underdevelopment--and He's deemed this particular trial at this particular time necessary. It comes to you with premeditation and forethought, designed specifically for you, which is to say that it is not random.

"'For a little while' communicates that though God allowed Thing One and Thing Two to turn your life upside down, He has never let them off their leash. ...

"All trials, hardship, and suffering come into the life of the believer with divine permission and forethought; they'll last exactly as long as they were planned to last."

Just preaching this all to myself right now. 

A Letter to My Little One

Dear little one,

We officially confirmed your presence a week ago Tuesday, but I knew (at least suspected) you were here for about a month.

A gentle stirring within.

Growing, knitting, living.

We were so overjoyed, so enthralled,

A quiet, secret joy.

A Valentine’s Day baby, maybe.

A new precious girl?

Or another sweet brother?

A gift to us.

You were a gift to us.

You are a gift to us.

We loved you so, so much.

But God gives different gifts.

And this one, for us, He gave and took away.

He is our kind Father.

Our hearts break for such a short hello

And too soon good-bye.

Another baby, squirming, bloody,

Plunged into this broken world.

He lived pure,

Took my blow,

And rose to redeem

Our too soon good-byes.

So good-bye for now, little sweetheart,

Until we meet again.

Love,

Your momma