Today is Wednesday, February 22, 2017. Three more days until Spring Training games begin!
“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.” – Henry David Thoreau
Dudgeon – a feeling of offense or resentment; anger.
Today is Pink Day. You might think this is related to breast cancer, but it isn’t. Pink Day is about bullying. Bullying is a huge problem, and it has extended from school playgrounds to highways (ever had someone come up on you and ride your bumper because they thought you weren’t going fast enough? Worse, yet, have YOU ever done that??) to the Internet. Pink Day is dedicated to breaking the cycle of bullying. If you see someone bullying today, call them out.
For some reason, I typed that yesterday was Wednesday. My alert mother pointed that out to me, which I appreciate. I have now fixed that mistake. It’s kind of weird, actually. One would think that I would have written “Monday,” since I didn’t go to work on Monday. But no; I wrote “Wednesday.” Scratching my head over that one.
C is still in a great bit of pain. Looks to me like she needs a week to just sit/lay around and do nothing. But that’s not going to happen for a while. There’s not really anything going on for the rest of the week, though, so at least in the evenings, she can chill. We are getting together with our “missional gathering” folks on Saturday (I think), because we couldn’t meet last Thursday. The next Night of Worship is a week from this coming Saturday. Which reminds me; I need to come up with a couple of songs that I want to lead.
Yesterday, it was announced that David Cassidy has dementia. That makes me sad. I was never a huge fan of The Partridge Family, but I hate to see that happen to anyone, especially people who make their living off of performing.
40 days until Opening Day!
Awake, my glory! Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn! Psalm 57:8
Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved! Psalm 80:7
My lips will shout for joy, when I sing praises to you; my soul also, which you have redeemed. Psalm 71:23
Summon your power, O God, the power, O God, by which you have worked for us. Psalm 68:28
(From Living the Message)
Psalm 130 is a psalm that deals with waiting and hoping. The reality is that suffering is real, but God is also real. “We accept suffering; we believe in God.” Both of these realities come from the depths. Our procedure in living in reality is in those two words: wait and hope. In the middle of Psalm 130, we find these words: I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. O Israel, hope in the LORD! (5-7) The idea of the watchman is presented in connection with waiting and hoping. The watchman is important, but he doesn’t do a whole lot. The world turns, the sun and moon continue their courses, all apart from him. He has not influence or control over such things. As he waits for the dawn, he is alert to dangers, which is comforting to those who are resting.
The psalmist could not be a watchman without his confidence in God. “The psalmist’s and the Christian’s waiting and hoping is based on the conviction that God is actively involved in his creation and vigorously at work in redemption.”
The act of waiting is not the same thing as doing nothing. “It is not fatalistic resignation.” We go on about our daily tasks, confident that God is at work. We are not “keeping up appearances with a bogus spirituality.” Nor are we involved in “desperate and panicky manipulations,” or “scurrying and worrying.”
Likewise, hoping is not just dreaming, fantasy, or illusion. “It means a confident alert expectation that God will do what he said he will do.”
My life’s on the line before God, my Lord,
waiting and watching till morning,
waiting and watching till morning. Psalm 130:6 (The Message)
Father, as I go about my daily tasks, let be with an attitude of waiting and hoping. Your word promises good things to those who wait for you. Let me be one of those.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus!
Grace and peace, friends.