Make me to know how frail I am

Psalm 39:4 says,

"Lord, make me to know my end,
And what is the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am."

To those who will live forever, this life is indeed very short, only a vapor, not an enduring solid.

But why would David want to know what his end will be?  Why would anyone want to know how long he was destined to live, at which time he would have to die?  No one wants to know, except the one who has a solid faith in eternal life.  Only Jesus Christ has promised this.  The Old Testament saints had some idea of eternal life.  David certainly taught such ideas.  The translation of Enoch and Elijah (without death) also argues for an eternal life.

But Jesus promised it explicitly.  Not only did He promise it, but he demonstrated it by his own resurrection and ascension.  No other religion can make such an iron-clad guarantee of eternal life to those who believe.  But that is our end, endless; and the measure of our days is without measure.

Praise be the the Lord Jesus Christ!  To know that our end is only passing from here to There is wonderful. We are not going away, just going home to Him who is our Maker, and to be forever with our Redeemer.  And the end that we face here, death, is only a beginning, the beginning of life that is not temporal or mortal, but everlasting!

This doesn't mean I am not frail.  My health, be it ever so strong, can change in a moment.  One wrong step could do me in, or one innocent habit, unchecked after many years, could be fatal.  Trusting the wrong medication, these days, can be a life and death decision.  This shows how frail our knowledge is too.  Drugs once thought to be safe turned out to be disastrous over a long period. Who predicted that having knowledge of nuclear power would prove to create so much fear and greed and war and anxiety in the world. 

But we must know that we are frail, both physically and in knowledge. And I think that perhaps this knowledge alone gives man the humility that can save his soul, and the world.  God so loved the world that He gave His only Son.  This wasn't to come and puff us up with self-reliance and pride and humanism. It was to show us how frail we are, how doomed to destroy all that is good, and ourselves in the process, if we do not retain the knowledge of God.

Lord, send forth the knowledge of thyself to people in this generation, through me and all those who call you Lord, by the proclamation of the gospel of your Son Jesus Christ.  AMEN

Psalm 150

Praise the Lord.

Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty heavens.
Praise him for his acts of power;
praise him for his surpassing greatness.
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
praise him with the harp and lyre,
praise him with tambourine and dancing,
praise him with the strings and flute,
praise him with the clash of cymbals,
praise him with resounding cymbals.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord.

It's natural to praise my wife or children, or myself. So everyone knows what it is. Praise means joy, pleasure and recognition to the one who has done something well. "God saw all that he had made, and it was very good." [Gen 1:31] This is praise for the creation. Psalm 150 is praise, not for specific works, but for who God is.

I have gotten completely out of the habit of praising the Lord. I sing the hymns on Sunday, of course. But to just cut loose and praise God is something I think I've gotten too intellectual to do. I mean, I think too much to praise the Lord simply and joyously as the psalmist does. I mean, where can I do this? His sanctuary is too staid and solemn any more. Even when people are having "praise time", they just listen to the performers mostly.

Maybe I need to go to a Christian concert. But Christian entertainment isn't exactly the same as being in the sanctuary with God's people, praising the Lord. Perhaps I should find a Pentacostal church to visit. The Commonwealth Chapel in Richmond was so refreshing, the one time I visited. Of course that's too far. Perhaps at the Harvest Festival this weekend in Washington I can really praise the Lord. I should take along my tambourine and instruments. I hope they don't think I've lost my marbles if I whip out a kazoo or something and join in. I think young people expect conformity in these things, even though they talk otherwise.

Here I am writing about praise, as if that will remedy my lack of praising God. No. I am writing devotionally a journal entry on the Word in Psalm 150, because the Word will remedy my lack of praise. The Word of God is the revelation of God, and when we have seen Him, praise arises very naturally.

I have a feeling the Native Americans knew all about praise. It was a great pleasure meeting Don at the Cub Scout Pow-Wow last weekend. He spoke to me at length about the spontaneous nature of the music he plays on the flute each day. He said it was for himself, and no matter how spontaneous, it was perfect. Perhaps he is just easy to please. When I play piano, I'm usually not that satisfied with my playing. I want it to be my best effort, not a poor offering. Anyway, whether it is perfect or not, I must offer it as praise to God, with singing and joy and sincerity.

Lord, restore the spirit of praise to me, to worship you daily as you reveal your glory and love to me in the Word.