Numbers 7; Psalms 42–43; Song of Songs 5; Hebrews 5
Some have said that life is not like this ––––––––––––––––
but more like this: /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\. It seems to me that even the ups and
downs are irregular and unpredictable.
For example, today’s newspaper had this
headline: “Let us guard against calamity
fatigue.” It is about a city north of us that is experiencing severe
flooding on top of coronavirus and a wildfire four years ago that destroyed
homes and businesses. What next? Who knows? Stress levels are high.
Life is like that. People usually react to those valleys with
‘why’ questions and are despondent
and struggle. Where is God and what is He
doing? Even those whose relationship with Him is long and deep have those dark
days when all seems hopeless, people like the psalmist who likened himself like
a deer panting for water.
I can imagine it. The deer is quivering with thirst and
perhaps fear. Certainly, the psalmist is too. He is cast down, in turmoil,
feeling forgotten and mocked by those who taunt him. But even in that valley he
calls for light and truth. He knows that this season of hunger, fear and
uncertainty will not last. His prayer ends with these words:
Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling! Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy, and I will praise you with the lyre, O God, my God. Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. (Psalm 43:3–5)
I’m not in a flood, nor have any of my friends succumbed
to the virus. No fires, no enemy attacks, but I feel the struggles of those I read
about in the news. For them, life is a nightmare and my empathy and sense of weakness
in disasters is nothing compared to their calamity fatigue. It motivates me to
pray, not necessarily that God will fix it but that He will use it for good,
bringing people to call out to Him, like that deer seeking a drink. Even like Jesus
did as He suffered a great thirst for His Father who had seemingly forsaken
Him.
In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, (Hebrews 5:7–9)
God the Son had to learn obedience? As the Son of man, He was
like us, helpless in the ups and downs of life, certainly weaker than anyone
could be weak as He hung on the cross and suffered for our sin. In that human
body and human nature, the most extreme trial was this test. He could have
escaped but He stayed there — for our sake.
I think of the people in the floods and in quarantine,
those hooked to a ventilator and dying. Could it be for the same purpose not to
save the world but that in this world of sorrows we experience the deepest valleys
so we might learn obedience through what we suffer?
APPLY: I will not become a Savior of the world when and if
I learn to trust God in those deep valleys. I will never be the source of
eternal salvation because of anything I’ve done in obedience to God. The best I
can hope for is that God will be glorified and that others will be drawn to
Him. Lord Jesus, help me be like You in the peaks and valleys of life included those
today, and to do the best that I can to honor You.