In Psalm 5 we read that God hears our voice. And so, I lay my requests before him. Requests that are preluded with thanksgiving for provision and for sacrifices made. For children kept safe, needs fulfilled, wants provided.
Requests preluded with worship to a mighty God I cannot see. A mighty God I cannot fathom. One I sometimes cannot understand. Requests preluded with a regrets and sorrow for sins simplified by ignorance, blindness, pride, or a lack of acknowledgement. Requests followed by thanksgiving once more.
And then… I wait.
In expectation, I wait.
I wait for something to happen. Something good. Something for my good. Something for the good of one I have intervened for. Something better.
I anticipate it. Hope for it. Watch for it. Bank on it. Look for it.
Why? Because God made a promise in days past and then… He kept them all.
Noah built and God saved.
Abraham obeyed and God blessed.
Abraham offered Issac and God provided.
Moses sprinkled blood and kept the Passover and death had no power.
Rahab welcomed strangers and her family was promised life.
But what about today? What about now?
It is so hard to lay down my requests and wait. For many days in this past year, it has been even difficult to lay down my requests. Why? There are days I don’t know why. Some days I know it stems from not feelng worthy of such infinite mercy, such grace, such provision.
Yet, he tells us to trust Him. To commit to Him and He will do as He says.
It’s a loaded word. One used to paint a picture of marriage. A betrothment. A word used for one who has agreed to be obligated to a promise he has made. It is used by the faithful. A pledge given to another. Having the idea of attachment, a constancy and devotion, an adhesion that can’t be pried loose nor a loyalty that can be broken.
For some it means a restriction for freedom. For others it is the means.
Can I commit? Didn’t I?
Have I lived in such a way for my Jesus that I was committed? Betrothed? The opposite would be unattached, indifferent. Have I been like that? Separated as one becomes when the light has gone from their marital relationship? Have I appeared to be living apart from Him, unengaged from the miraculous and trying to create miracles of my own? In my ambition to lead a quiet life (1 Thess. 4:12-13), have I seemed remarried to a worldly god instead of a my Pince of peace?
Oh God, I hope not.
Dear God, I cry, I hope not.
It is a heavy word, commitment, but in relationship to being stuck like a band-aid to God, it is not bulky or burdensome. Instead, it holds an abundance of wonderous hope.
In commitment to a mighty, loving, and glorious King, I too, like Abraham and Issac, Noah and David, Joseph and Rahab, and all the others who walked long before my steps left footprints on this earth, have seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13,14).
Goodness that comes as a peace in the dark hours and pours over me a light and a hope. Goodness that reaches down when I cannot look up. Goodness that guides in my lostness. Goodness that gives hope when everything seems hopeless.
Rhea F. Miller. She is the author of a poem written in 1922. A poem that caught the attention of George Beverly Shea. A poem he put to music ten years later. The words were the cry of his heart.
He sat down at the piano in his home and played this new song. His mother came in from the kitchen with tears in her eyes and encouraged him to sing it in church the following Sunday.
Ten years after that there was a knock on his door. Standing on the other side was a Wheaton College student, stopping by to tell George how much he had enjoyed and loved his singing. His name? William Franklin Graham. The rest is history.
The poem/song? I’d Rather Have Jesus than Anything.
So would I. To be committed to Him as a loving, loyal wife to her husband. To be obligated to Him for life. To be faithful when I feel faithless. To be pledged for eternity – for death will not separate us. To be attanched, constant and devoted. To be adhered to Him like a band-aid stuck to the skin.
That’s what faith can do.
It keeps you focused. It keeps you centered. It gives hope. It gives peace. It gives joy. For you are not looking within, but up. You are looking to Him for every expectation, for every answer to your prayers, every cry of your heart.
Yes, I’d rather have Jesus than anything. For by faith, He is my Prince. In sickness and in health. On the richer days and the poorer days. In the better days and the worst of days. In sadness and in joy. I want to cherish Him as He cherishes me and show Him my deepest devotion, forsaking all other gods as long as I live.
I’d rather have Jesus than anything.
Listen to: I’d Rather Have Jesus
I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold,
I’d rather have His than have riches untold;
I’d rather have Jesus than houses or lands,
I’d rather be led by His nailpierced hand
Than to be the king of a vast domain
And be held in sin’s dread sway;
I’d rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords today.
I’d rather have Jesus than men’s applause,
I’d rather be faithful to His dear cause;
I’d rather have Jesus than worldwide fame,
I’d rather be true to His holy name
He’s fairer than lilies of rarest bloom,
He’s sweeter than honey from out the comb;
He’s all that my hungering spirit needs,
I’d rather have Jesus and let Him lead