Proclaim
the greatness of the LORD our God and worship him upon his holy hill; for the
LORD our God is the Holy One. Psalm
99:9
But you, O
LORD my God, Oh, deal with me according to your Name; for your tender mercy’s
sake, deliver me. For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me. Psalm 109:20–21
I waited
patiently upon the LORD; He stooped to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of
the desolate pit, out of the mire and the clay; He set my feet upon a high
cliff and made my footing sure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise
to our God; many shall see, and stand in awe. And put their trust in the LORD. Psalm 40:1–3
We must learn to live
each day, each hour, yes, each minute as a new beginning, as a unique
opportunity to make everything new. Imagine that we could live each moment as a
moment pregnant with new life. Imagine that we could live each day as a day
full of promise. Imagine that we could walk through the new year always
listening to the Voice sayin to us, “I
have a gift for you and I can’t wait for you to see it!”
The problem is that we
allow the past, which becomes longer and longer each year, to say to us, “You
know it all; you have seen it all, be realistic; the future will be just
another repeat of the past. Try to survive it as best you can.” There are many
cunning foxes jumping on our shoulders and whispering in our ears the great
lie, “He is not big enough.”
So what are we to do?
First, we must send the foxes back to where they belong in their foxholes. And
then we must open our minds and our heart to the Voice that resounds through
the valleys and hills of our life saying, “Let me show you where I live among
my people. My name is “God-with-you.”
We must choose to
listen to that Voice, and every choice will open us a little more to discover
the new life hidden in the moment, waiting eagerly to be born. Henri
Nouwen, Here and Now
God with me. That is
one of His names.
And it is easy to believe pedaling down backroads in Vermont. Life.
Here. Now. Speaking life out of emptiness. And of course I
love the mighty beauty of Aslan’s song in The
Magician’s Nephew.
“A voice
had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from
what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions
at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath
them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself.
There were no words. It was hardly a tune. But it was beyond comparison, the
most beautiful sound he had ever heard.”
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