Isaiah 40:6-8, 27-31 People are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in the field . . . but the word of our God stands forever. How can you say the Lord does not see your troubles? . . . Have you never understood? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of his understanding. He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless. Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.

Which of God’s promises are most precious to you?

These words from Isaiah 40, and indeed the whole chapter, are precious to me as I seek to live my life for my “audience of one,” the only One whose word is absolutely dependable. This One who made me, who knows and understands my weaknesses and vulnerabilities. Instead of judging me (as I tend to do to myself), out of his limitless supply he gives me new strength.

Those who read the Karis book and conclude that I am strong need to understand this: there is no way I could have survived those years in my own strength! That’s really great news, because these promises are for everyone, for you. No matter what your circumstances or struggles are today.

As I shivered into my clothes early this morning before the furnace kicked into its pre-set daytime temperature, I thought about how difficult it was to keep Karis warm her last couple of winters. How much of her strength went into maintaining a reasonable body temperature, since she was too skinny to provide her own insulation and due to other medical conditions and meds. We tried all kinds of things to keep her warm. When we succeeded, even for a little while, she had energy to do things other than just huddle under heated blankets! She had new strength.

I’m visualizing the Lord’s love and faithfulness as a warm blanket covering me this morning, giving me, yes, new strength for the adventures of today.

Psalm 22:3-5 But you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.  In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

Pittsburgh continues to struggle its way forward after the overwhelming shock of the shooting at Tree of Life synagogue a week ago Saturday.  Mid-week last week a friend sent me an email suggesting that a group of us gather for Shabbat worship in a show of solidarity for the Jewish people.  The idea came originally from the AJC – a global Jewish advocacy group based in New York.  My friend took the initiative to call a local synagogue (Beth Shalom) and make sure it was OK for a bunch of goyim to show up.  We were received warmly.

The Friday night service was poignant.  After the opening hymn, the rabbi announced, “We gather tonight to reclaim our space of worship.” The majority of the service consisted of hymns sung/chanted in Hebrew.  Thankfully English translations were available.  As beautiful Hebrew words sounded around me I found myself thinking about the ancient roots of this worship reflecting themes that went back thousands of years, some to the time of Moses, others to the time of King David, others more recent.  Some words were familiar – taken directly from the Psalms or the Torah.  Others were new.  All were poetic.

I found myself thinking about the resiliency of this people, who survived pogroms, concentration camps, indignities and prejudice of numerous kinds and most recently a shooting in Pittsburgh and yet gathers with determination to worship.  The rabbi shared that in times like these, we all have two “tracks” running: the train of resiliency and the train of vulnerability.  For some of us one or the other is running fastest right now.  We gather to encourage those whose vulnerability train is running fastest and to help all of us rev up our resiliency train.  The message was only a few sentences long, but it impacted me.  As we returned to hymns chanted in Hebrew – about the faithfulness of God, about the rescue that he will surely bring in hard times – I felt the roots of this worship running far and deep.  And I felt the presence of God “enthroned on the praises of Israel.”

I had gone to provide solidarity, to show that I cared.  And as so often happens unexpectedly in these moments, I received more than I gave.  I am grateful for the resiliency of the Hebrew people.  I continue to pray for them.

Isaiah 25:4-5 But you are a tower of refuge to the poor, O Lord, a tower of refuge to the needy in distress. You are a refuge from the storm and a shelter from the heat. For the oppressive acts of ruthless people are like a storm beating against a wall, or like the relentless heat of the desert. But you silence the roar of foreign nations. As the shade of a cloud cools relentless heat, so the boastful songs of ruthless people are stilled.

When, Lord? How long must the people of Venezuela suffer from the ruthlessness and oppressive acts of their rulers?

But you ARE a tower of refuge to the pastors of Venezuela who have chosen to stay, and serve, and care for your people, under impossible conditions. This is an amazing thing to watch. Their love and commitment are a continual wonder to me.

Here is a translation of an email I received last week from a dear pastor’s wife in Venezuela. She—who must struggle daily to find food for her family to eat, who constantly faces blackouts, violence in the streets, failure of public services including her children’s schools, where 80% of public transportation is no longer functioning (and they have no car), and on and on it goes—is praying for Dave and me:

“From the balcony of my house, looking out on a rainy vista and listening to the calling of a variety of birds, I have the privilege of praying for you. May God continue to renew his mercy in your lives. I am asking our Father to increase your energy, abolish your fatigue, and supply you with all that you need to hear and obey God’s voice. May his plans for you in these days be fulfilled and his Spirit flow through you to bless many more people with the love, perseverance, and passion for God’s ways that have marked our hearts and so many others. May he bring to fruition the dreams he has yet to accomplish. I bless you as fathers and friends to us here, with a hug from my heart.”

Only a person who has found the Lord to be her tower of refuge can so generously pray for us, well fed, free, and spoiled in every way. Please, pray with us for God’s protection, miraculous provision, and encouragement for the pastors of his people in Venezuela!

1 Chronicles 16:26-27, 33-34 The gods of other nations are mere idols, but the Lord made the heavens! Honor and majesty surround him; strength and joy fill his dwelling. . . Let the trees of the forest rustle with praise, for the Lord is coming to judge the earth. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.

This morning I went for a walk to soak in the splendor of the fall leaves. I scuffled through burnt orange, carmine, russet, and gold, joining my prayers to the thousands who are remembering the families whose loved ones will be buried today. It seems the Pittsburgh trees this year reserved their full glory until this week, so they could celebrate with us the loveliness of the eleven lives laid to rest in these days. I will always now associate the bittersweetness of autumn with the events of this week.

Oddly, as I walked I found my thoughts turning to judgment. And more oddly still, I felt the Lord flood my heart with peace and gratitude. Because he is good. And one day, out of his goodness and faithful love, he will judge the earth. Human efforts to bring justice to this situation will be imperfect at best. None of us is wise enough to know, understand, and properly discern all of the complex factors in this case or any other. But God, who not only created the heavens but each one of us, who sees beyond appearances into the heart, will one day come and make the world right. I find such comfort in this promise.

I reflected too on the difference between the beauty of the individual trees, valiantly displaying their loveliness to gladden our neighborhood, and the grandeur of the bluff on the other side of the river, where each tree adds its charm to the whole forest.

We need both, the individual and the communal. Without the individual, the communal lacks luster. The community celebrates the individual contribution of each of its members. Watching the Jewish community band together this week reminds me that this is my heritage too. I have been grafted into this trunk (Romans 11). I want to learn more deeply what this means, and offer more freely what God has given me to the beauty and wellbeing of the particular communities where God has planted me.

Isaiah 53:3-4 He is a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him . . . But he has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.

With all of Pittsburgh, we are shocked and grieving. The massacre at Tree of Life synagogue in Squirrel Hill Saturday took place just a few minutes away from us, in a lovely neighborhood that is home to many of our church family. Dr. Rabinowitz, who was shot when he tried to give aid to other victims, was a friend and colleague of one of our members for forty years. He (and other victims) was known and loved by many others, including a couple who saw him at breakfast shortly before he was killed.

Last night at our service of mourning, we could weep knowing that God is acquainted with deepest grief; he carries our sorrows with us. And yes, one day he will swallow up death forever. The sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears (Isaiah 25:8).

But “how long, how long till these tears are gone?” (Eric J. Marshall’s song that Elise and Chris so eloquently shared with us). We weep that this tragedy has hit us here, where we live, tearing the fabric of our peaceful lives. But we weep for all of the senseless killing that has taken place across our broken and bleeding nation. How long, how long must we all endure this?

We must each of us do what we can, not only in grieving and expressing our solidarity with the families of the victims, but also in taking action to limit such tragedies in the future. This has nothing to do with the second amendment! No one suspected Robert Bowers would be a killer.

Psalm 31:22 In panic I cried out . . . But you heard my cry for mercy and answered my call for help.

In my early marriage I sold Fuller Brush products door to door. One Sunday I put the week’s checks from my customers on the top of the car as we were putting things inside to go to church. I forgot to take them from the top of the car – some $1000 back in 1978 when that meant a great deal. Arriving at church, I went into a panic. I got a ticket driving home as fast as I could, but found no checks anywhere.

A lady had a dream about finding signed checks all over the place. She asked herself if that were to happen, what she would do. And then as she took her morning walk, she saw a piece of paper fluttering in a bush. Intrigued, she went over and found a signed check… and then another… and another. She looked up our name and address and showed up at our apartment later that day with some twenty signed checks. Whewee!

We lose things. All kinds of things! We sometimes think we’re losing our minds. BUT GOD…! 🙂

Psalm 121:5 God himself watches over you.

God cares. Psalm 121 starts out “I lift my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?” The Psalmist is clearly in trouble. He’s looking for help, somewhat desperately. In the remaining seven verses of the Psalm, the phrase “he who watches over you” or a similar phrase are repeated five times! Sometimes we may feel like we have to look for help or look for God. Little do we know that he’s looking much more than we are! Looking out for us!

Last week I badly wanted something for my ministry. It was taken away from me. Something else was offered. While I really wasn’t happy with what was offered, by the end of the week I realized that what was offered was a far better fit for my calling than what I had so much wanted.

I wanted one thing, BUT GOD… God watched over me and kept me from what I wanted because He knew that what I really needed was something else entirely. Thank You, God!

Ezra 5:3-5 [Governor] Tattenai soon arrived in Jerusalem and asked, “Who gave you permission to rebuild this Temple? . . . But because God was watching over them, the Jews were not prevented from building.

The first few chapters of Ezra describe Zerubbabel and Jeshua’s challenges and successes as they led the small remnant of Jews in Jerusalem to rebuild the Temple that had been destroyed seventy years before. We wouldn’t know this story if Ezra hadn’t come along fifty-some years later and written it down. We would have missed an important link in the chain of God’s relationship with his people.

Reading Ezra has encouraged me these days in my own efforts to record what I know from Karis’s journals and have experienced myself of God watching over our family even through our toughest times. Here’s an example, a very simple one but it had great impact for me:

I was keeping vigil at Karis’s bedside during a time when, because of bleeding and seizures caused by overdose of one of her medications, she wasn’t mentally occupying the same reality the rest of us were in touch with. I was hungry, but even more exhausted than hungry. The idea of walking down to the hospital cafeteria and standing in line and having to choose what to eat all seemed like too much effort.

I was thinking about this, not even actually verbalizing it to the Lord, when there was a knock on the door and a nurse walked in with a tray of food. “This patient was already discharged and the food will just be thrown away. I thought maybe . . .?”

The nurse was actually embarrassed about offering this to me, as if I might be offended. But she was even more discomfited by the tears that sprang to my eyes. She said, “Don’t tell anyone. I’m not actually supposed to do this.”

Several more times during that hospitalization when that nurse was on duty, trays of food “mysteriously” appeared in Karis’s room that Karis, of course, couldn’t eat. (But please don’t tell anyone.)

God was watching over me in such a precious, personal way. And I have no doubt he is watching over you too. So here’s a little challenge for you:

Between now and Thanksgiving, write down a story about God caring for you. And on Thanksgiving Day, share that story with someone.

If you like, you can send your story to me for this blog. I would love to share a dozen stories of God watching over us.