Thursday, July 18, 2013

Be gone, Satan


Then Jesus said to him, “Be gone, Satan! For it is written, “‘You shall worship the Lord your God and Him only shall you serve.’” Matthew 4:10

Yesterday my mom and I were wending our way through the rolling grasslands of Montana outskirting Glacier National Park when she burst into our silent thoughts with something along the lines of, "You know that book Mary Anne got me? The author said something that has been so helpful to me; rather than focusing on our problems and having flitting thoughts about God, we should fill our thoughts of Him, and only allow our problems to flit."

 The word worship is derived from the Old English worthscipe, meaning worthiness or worth-ship—to give, at its simplest, worth to something. Evelyn Underhill further explains, "Worship asserts the reality of its object and defines its meaning by reference to it."

And so very often do I not give worth to my frets and worries, much more so than to the LORD of Hosts, the King of Glories? 

And I might pretend that my problems are real, but the reality that I have experienced time and time again is that of torturing myself with what never comes to pass outside of my vivid imagination. Not only myself, but every living soul in my vicinity with my joylessness.

The conversation turned to the truth that we experienced in the last six weeks of life, right after that vaguely concerned phone call I received from mom the morning of my last day of work, "Your dad isn't getting out of bed..." The last days had weighed so very heavily on us all, particularly on mom, for so many years; would it all be too much for her to bear?

Nope.

Wham,wham,wham. The support pieces fell, hmm, miraculously, into place. A bed rolled in the front door, and boxes of supplies hefted in the arms of caring, experienced souls, and Zach and Emma arrived from Virginia, and Jenny from Denver, and Julie from Casa Grande and comfort care set in from all angles. And God was real, and our doubtful worries were not. The season was one of celebration of His provision and faithfulness rather than one of overwhelmed despair.

And I guess this pilgrimage to the ripped out mountainscapes, carved over the eons by glacial silent forces making their way through time and space to work their beauteous will is a reminder, an Ebenezer stone. And although I do not particularly enjoy tripping over the masses of fellow pilgrims at first glance, there is indeed a simple joy in a shared gaped-mouth awe of something so much bigger and above our so very smallness.

Thus, "Be gone, Satan," and let me return to my first love, in recognition and worship. And Him only shall I serve, rather than murmuring and groveling before all of these cluttering preoccupations.

Back to Evelyn, "Worship is the absolute acknowledgment of all that lies beyond us—the glory that fills heaven and earth. It is the response that conscious beings make to their Creator, to the Eternal Reality from which they came forth."

Thus, as we return to our journey this morning, wandering through flower-filled meadows and  past quaking aspens and across crashing streams, may our hearts and minds ever be aware of What Is True, Who is spanning above and beyond all else: 
I lift up my eyes to the hills.
    From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.
The Lord will keep
    your going out and your coming in
    from this time forth and forevermore.

Be gone, Satan.

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