Christmas Eve in Georgia. . .

. . . crashing on the couch, listening to music, candles flicker on the mantle. And I’m thinking how just two weeks ago it was cold enough to light a fire to keep the chill off. But this evening it’s sultry, warm, sticky. It’s more like middle Florida.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s time to think of family. It’s time to think of friends. It’s time to thank the L-rd for the Birth of Messiah Lord Y’shuaJesus.

It’s time to light my lantern, too. It’s a tradition. It began with my grandfather’s miner’s lantern, which my Mother brought with her from Wales. My parents bought their sons lanterns like her father’s, and we all light our lanterns on Christmas Eve. We are connected in this way. Tradition!

May G-d Bless your Christmas celebration.

I Wanna Go Home. . .

Hours before dawn this morning, while walking in the desert, I came upon a small group of young men and an old flatbed truck. The men appeared to be American Indians. A foal trotted along side the truck, falling on a sharp hook that protruded from the truck’s bed. Blood oozed from the wound. I suggested that the foal needed attention, and though there was some dissent, they finally agreed. I had to open a cattle crossing and carry the foal a short way to a large ranch house. The foal was taken somewhere by someone, while the group of men remained. Eventually they led me desert to an older man in the house. I asked to use the toilet, and the old man and the group of men lead me through a large living room toward the back of the house. We walked by a number of bedrooms and through a large community sleeping room with many single beds in it. All along the way through the house many of the mens’ wives greeted us. They appeared to know me and that I was coming. Finally we emerged through a doorway into a restaurant.

In the restaurant, under bright lights, I looked closely at the men. They were older than they looked. I looked again and saw that they were my age and I knew them vaguely. They were all saying to me that they were happy to have be back. One man showed me a block of soap that they’d developed for a car wash, and wanted me to tell them why it didn’t work now, though had worked several weeks ago. I had no clue, yet it came to me that a few weeks ago the soap was new, now it was aged and had lost its potency.

Another of the men spoke of his wife, in hushed, intimate, tones; she’d been injured some time ago and the insurance company paid for complete restricting of her jaw. In a more recent injury, the insurance was doing little to help. As he spoke it dawned on me that I’d known these men as a child.

A woman appeared then and we spoke about my going away, and that I regretted it. She said it was what it was, and that now I was back and that too was as it was to be. She was happy I was back.

Soon we wandered back into the house and the older man I’d met earlier showed me my bed, saying it was my old bed. It was in the community bedroom with many other single beds. As I lay down, the woman that I’d spoken came and lay next to me. She said she missed how when we were kids we’d all slept together on the floor.

I felt content. I felt appreciated. I was home. I now only vaguely knew I’d had a life away, but now I, home, that life was a million miles away. In the distance ‘yotes (coyotes) sang to a tranquil yellow dawn.

I awoke from my dream only minutes before the alarm sounded. I went to the kitchen to make my wife some coffee for her commute to her office. As I did so I thought of the dream. I began to connect the house in the dream to a ranch house I remember as a child. In the house lived a girl that was like a sister to me. In the house there was a room behind the living room in which we’d played. She told me that it was where the ranch hands once lived. I was born only a few miles from her, on a small ranch, in the desert, in the foothills of a mountain range, a hundred of so miles east of Los Angeles.

The dream and the reality of my own life merged. A childhood friend was a Mexican-American Indian, the son of my Father’s First Sergeant. My Father had built up a small ranch soon after WWII, and invited to it a woman he’d met in England while staging with the 101st Airborne Division for D-Day. She was the daughter of a Welsh miner, from a small village in South Wales. When my Father met her, she was a nurse stationed near the Army post. Their first date was a true blind date; it was in a black out. She arrived by boat in New York, and they married. I was born on the ranch a few years later.

After this I will pour out My Spirit on all humanity;
then your sons and your daughters will prophesy,
your old men will have dreams,
and your young men will see visions.
I will even pour out My Spirit
on the male and female slaves in those days.
I will display wonders
in the heavens and on the earth:
blood, fire, and columns of smoke.
The sun will be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood
before the great and awe- inspiring Day of the Lord comes.
Then everyone who calls
on the name of the LORD will be saved,
for there will be an escape
for those on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem,
as the Lord promised,
among the survivors the Lord calls. —Joel 2:28-32 (emphasis added)

Mulling all this over, I recalled that my parents had appeared briefly in the dream, also. I also saw in the dream that I’d been very unhappy at myself that I’d left the ranch, which is how I’ve felt in reality. I left the ranch, was torn from the ranch, why my Father’s National Guard infantry company was activated for deployment and combat in Korea. I never knew why my Father sold the ranch, but he must have felt couldn’t afford to hire ranch manager to run the ranch in his absence.

After my Father returned from Korea, we never returned to the ranch or that small desert town, except on an occasional visit. That burned beneath my skin; it galled me throughout my life. I can still taste the bitterness. I not only had been uprooted, but my Father was taken from me when I so very much needed stability and him. I also wanted the simplicity and security of the ranch I knew in my child mind. Yes, my Mother settled us on the coast south of Los Angeles, and my Welsh aunt came to live with us. Yes, they spoke Welsh and I learned it too, though don’t speak many words now, for its long been forgotten. Yes, I came to love the salt air, the smell of the sea, the cry of the gulls, and the water—oh, the blue-green salt water. But something was torn from within me that never returned—at least not until this morning’s predawn dream.

The sense of contentment, the feeling of appreciation for me by those dream people on that dreamed ranch in the desert still warm me now, several hours later. And the feeling of welcome and the hugs of true friendship are so pleasant. What I take from this dream is that there shall come a time that I will one day go home and this life, with all its highs and lows, its beauty and ugliness, will fade away and the true reality of who I am will come to be. I will be home, among true friends, among those that truly love me, truly accept me.

I love You LORD!

Faith and Works

The Apostle James wrote (James 2:14):

What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can his faith save him?

This statement has been a subject of controversy. For Martin Luther, it isn’t just the idea of faith and works that is rejected, “Luther made an attempt to remove the books of Hebrews, James, Jude and Revelation from the canon (Bible).” —Wikipedia

King David didn’t have a problem with the whole Faith and Works thing. In Psalm 61:7 he wrote:

My salvation and glory depend on God, my strong rock. My refuge is in God.

In the same Psalm, 61:12, he wrote:

For You repay each according to his works.

This is one way of explaining how Faith and Works compliment each other: “People in desperation are often prepared to resort to criminal activity such as theft and extortion (verse 11) as means of extricating themselves from the crises they confront. David’s message here is that this tendency results from a lack of faith in the Almighty’s power to rescue and support. If a person truly believes that, as David declares in this Psalm’s final verse, God “repays each man in accordance with his conduct,” then he would never resort to unlawful tactics during times of need. He would instead appeal to the Almighty for salvation and trust in the assistance God extends to His loyal servants.” —Tehillim

Proclaiming Y’shua

Some years ago, while attending a church in California’s Bay Area, I found myself disturbed by something at first I couldn’t explain. The Sunday service began as do most Bible-based churches, with a time of praise and worship led by a music or praise minister. This church’s praise minister was also the senior pastor. The musicians were excellent. While there was no choir, as a more traditional denominational church might have, there were several vocalists that stood with the band. A large screen formed the backdrop to the stage and displayed the words to the songs. Each Sunday it was like attending a rock concert. . .

That was it! Praise is to be directed toward Heaven, not stopped at the stage. The musicians, the vocalists, the worship leader is there only to help the people direct their praise, their worship, toward the object of our faith, toward G-d the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. Here at this particular church the praise was too perfect, too well rehearsed. The people sang along but their praise didn’t leave the church, rather was absorbed by those on the stage performing for the people. They performed, not for G-d, but for the people.

Apostle Paul said “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Y’shua Mashiach as L-rd.” As ministers of Mashiach—Messiah, Christ—we are obligated to proclaim Y’shua as G-d. When we perform for the benefit of people, we are proclaiming ourselves, not Mashiach.

For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus ‘sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. —2 Corinthians 4:5,6

There is another side to this matter. I once attended a workshop on music ministry. I recall that the pastor talking about Christian musicians’ failures when they fall prey to an audience that directs its worship toward the artist rather than the one that made the artist great. How many times have we seen a secular musician’s “fans” get out of control in their desire to just touch a celebrity? All the time. According to the pastor leading the workshop, this same type of thing happens in church, too, though not as overt, not as visible. Perhaps it begins with admiration of the praise team and its leader.. Eventually the praise team begins to feel it is something special and worthy of this admiration. This lead to P R I D E. What goes before failure, a fall? P R I D E.

As ministers of Mashiach, we are obligated to be aware situations in which we are becoming prideful. We are held to a higher standard. Our failures are greater, affect more people. When we are offered a simple praise, such as “Thank you,” our response may simply be “you are welcome.” But can we rather direct all praise to L-rd Y’shua Mashiach? Can we not answer the “thank you” with “Praise the L-rd!”

Michtam

This morning I read Psalm 57. The introductory verse reads:

For the Chief Musician; Al- tashheth. [A Psalm] of David; Michtam; when he fled from Saul, in the cave.

The word Michtam immediately grabbed me. Michtam is first used in Psalm 16, then again in Psalms 57-60. A common definition for the word Michtam is “golden,” from which we are to infer that these Psalms are special, worthy of gold. Charles Spurgeon, in Treasury of David, used the term precious, and tells us that one of his friends believes Michtam means secret, as in a precious secret within this Psalm.

It occurs to me how easy it is to get carried away with this idea a secret. Look at all the self-help books that imply there are easy remedies to our problems kept secret from us and if we will buy the book, the author will guide us into truth. Huh! Arrogance. Foolishness. It is the Holy Spirit that guides us; there are things hidden and secret, and He will bring us into the truth.

Back to Michtam. “Rashi suggests that this word refers to an item that a person carries with him at all times. Thus, David here describes this Psalm as containing ideas that he would carry with him at every stage and setting throughout the life, concepts that he deemed vital as part of his day-to-day spiritual awareness.” —Daily Tehillim

The writer of Psalms Blogger refers to another writer who suggests Michtam means “hidden.” Stuff happens in our lives that we don’t understand, its real purpose is “hidden” from us. Ours isn’t to question why, but simply trust. “All things work for the good. . .” even if at the moment the situation isn’t understood or pleasant.

For me, all the definitions fit well in the context of Psalm 57. There are lessons we can learn from King David’s way of turning to G-d as his hiding place, as his refuge. The Psalm is based on King David’s experience of nearly being discovered by King Saul (see Samuel chapter 24), who entered the cave in which King David was hiding. I read the Psalm and see a wealth of wisdom hidden in what could be a simple Psalm. For the perilous days ahead, we can carry with us this Psalm. We can keep a literal print copy to carry with us and remind us of how Kind David handled the seemingly disastrous situations of his life. We can hold the wisdom of this Psalm, as we do all the promises and covenants we are given, in our hearts. We know that as G-d covered King David, keeping him safe, so G-d’s covering over us will keep us safe. We, like King David, will turn to our L-rd Y’shuaJesus Who is the anointed of G-d to redeem us.

Thinking of things secret and hidden: sometimes there are things that the Psalms “speak” to our hearts that we need not have directly explained to us by any teacher. This is true, too, of all the Bible. I am reminded of a comment by a writer friend about the end of one of my stories. He wanted me to “explain” the ending something like “the moral of the story is. . .” While I gratefully accepted his suggestion, I didn’t act on it. Some things a writer shouldn’t “spell” out; it’s up to the reader to infer or interpret the moral from the story itself. Our L-rd Y’shuaJesus understood this when He spoke about parables, and their usage. Paul spoke about the Gospel being hidden from those that are perishing.

And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’s sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. —2 Corinthians 4:3-6

In the context of the Bible, it is the L-rd Who opens our minds to the hidden, seemingly secret wisdom. We seek Him and we find Him, and we find the meaning of His Words. If we carry these various understandings in our hearts, we will find ourselves sheltered beneath the “wings of G-d.”

And if you find someone who wants to tell you all the secrets of the Bible, run. . .

Psalm 55

Cast your burden on the Lord,
and He will sustain you;
He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.
God, You will bring them down
to the Pit of destruction;
men of bloodshed and treachery
will not live out half their days.
But I will trust in You.
v22,23

This Psalm is explained and its lessons addressed at Daily Tehillim: “. . .according to the Radak and other commentators, was composed during the rebellion mounted by Avshalom, David’s son. Specifically, this prayer was written in response to the news that Ahitofel, David’s skilled and renowned advisor and strategist, had sided with Avshalom. We read in the Book of Shemuel II (15:31) that upon hearing of Ahitofel’s support for Avshalom, David prayed, “Foil Ahitofel’s plan, O God!” David was well aware of Ahitofel’s brilliance and experience in military strategy and thus realized Avshalom’s distinct advantage in this campaign. It appears that Psalm 55 presents the complete version of the prayer David offered in response to Ahitofel’s siding with Avshalom, to which the verse in Shemuel II only very briefly alludes.

“Although David makes no explicit reference here to Avshalom or Ahitofel, speaking generally about the “enemy” and “wicked man” (verse 4), the context of this chapter can be inferred from a number of verses in which David describes his current plight. Firstly, he speaks of the turmoil and chaos that has gripped the “city” (verses 10-12), which likely refers to David and his followers’ frantic departure from Jerusalem and Avshalom’s takeover of the capital city. Even more revealingly, David describes his adversary as somebody who has not been his foe, as a person whom David had actually always admired, to whom he had looked for guidance, and with whom he would frequently confide (verses 13-15). Later, he describes a person who betrays his comrades and speaks in false and deceitful flattery (verses 21-22). These descriptions accurately portray Ahitofel, David’s longtime loyal advisor and confidant who has now committed himself to David’s destruction.

“This Psalm expresses the sense of fear, loneliness and dejection that results from being betrayed by one’s loyal peers. Ahitofel’s betrayal leaves David in a state of such anxiety and disorientation that he wishes he could just fly like a bird to an uninhabited wilderness where he could seek refuge, as if entering an insulated building during a rainstorm (verses 7-9). Having always depended upon Ahitofel’s wise counsel and guidance, David now feels particularly lost, vulnerable and powerless.

“We all encounter situations where a condition to which we have grown accustomed suddenly changes, leaving us disoriented and with a feeling of lonely helplessness. David here advises, “Cast your burden upon God, and he shall support you” (verse 23). When left in a state of loneliness and vulnerability, a person must remember that the Almighty has not left him, and whatever basis for support that has been lost can be replaced by God Himself, who is capable of rescuing an individual from even the most difficult and seemingly insurmountable predicaments.” (emphasis added)

In a world turned upside down. . .

. . . anything is possible: “Clergy” pray together to bless murder, protect murderers.

A report from October 18, 2015, on Christian News demonstrates the depravity of some religious officials in the United States. The report from Cleveland, Ohio, begins:

“A group of approximately 15 apostate United Methodist, Episcopal and Jewish clergy recently gathered outside an abortion facility in Ohio to “bless” its services and to “thank God for abortion providers.”

“We gathered here today because far too many religious people forget that God’s love is steadfast,” Harry Knox, president of the Washington-based Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC), told the approximately 40 people joining the group for the event. “I’m here today standing alongside my fellow clergymen and clergywomen to say, ‘Thank God for abortion providers.’”

And G-d should bless America? G-d have mercy upon the Remnant of Believers in America and throughout the world.

There are wolves roaming in the field with the sheep.

A Cry for Spiritual Fire

There is a cry for Spiritual fire. Intercessors are taking to their prayer closets crying out, “L-rd, have mercy upon us in these days as trouble appears.” For the past several years, the L-rd has gathered prayer warriors from throughout the Earth. They have been preparing to be used as intercessors. Now the call is out to begin to pray for the Spiritual fire to come upon the redeemed.

This is not a call for revival. This is not a call to repentance. This is a call for the Spirit to fall upon those who have already repented, who have already received the L-rd and Savior Y’shuaJesus into their hearts.

At some point in the near future, there will be a call for universal identification to be carried by all people. It will come with a price. It will mean that a conscious choice be made that effectively renounces Y’shuaJesus as L-rd, as Savior. It will be difficult to resist. To resist will be considered traitorous. But for those who cave into the pressure:

This is the path of those who have foolish confidence; yet after them people approve of their boasts. Seals
Like sheep they are appointed for Sheol;
death shall be their shepherd, and the upright shall rule over them in the morning. Their form shall be consumed in Sheol, with no place to dwell.
Psalm 49:13,14

To resist this identification mark, we will need Spiritual Fire to burn within our hearts. We need to be as the as those who gathered in the upper chamber on the day of Pentecost, when tongues of fire entered the disciples of Y’shuaJesus.

And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.
Acts 1: 2-4

Inner Struggles

Lately I’ve been in a Spiritual struggle. It isn’t an inner conflict, exactly. It certainly is neither inner confusion nor a Spiritual battle. Actually, it is a pleasant struggle, like the playful wrestling around that two kids might do on the grass in the cool of the evening after a hot day.

It began innocently enough while reading the end of the ninth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. I’m sure you’ve read it too. Y’shuaJesus opens the blind eyes of two men who’d followed along behind him crying out for mercy.

And their eyes were opened. And Jesus sternly warned them, “See that no one knows about it.” But they went away and spread his fame through all that district.

Did these to men sin when the spread the word about Y’shuaJesus’s healing of their eyes? Simple enough question. But, they’ve been blind. How are they suppose to keep people from knowing about it? They were, no doubt, led from home to wherever they hung out during the day to await someone’s kind handouts. Now they can walk home themselves. Is no one suppose to notice this?

The various commentaries were of no help; one said one thing, while another said something contrary. Did the men sin? If so, how exactly were they suppose to not sin? And why is this important? It’s not as if it’s a faith-breaking thing. This isn’t some Spiritual battle that means I’m in Spiritual hot water. It’s just a curious thing.

An acceptable answer came. I could say, “The Lord told me. . .” Or I could say, “The Lord put it in my heart. . .” Or I could simply say, “I was led to an acceptable answer.” How does the Lord speak with us? That’s the way the answer came to me.

Now this sort of back and forth tussle continued throughout last week and this weekend on different questions that seemed to arise. Some of the questions came as responses to previous ones. Others, it seemed, just sort of popped up seemingly out of now where. Not all were “solved,” as they seemed only to be things to be explored, at least for the moment. It’s been fun. It’s been relaxing. It’s been reassuring.

So, the two formerly blind men—Did they sin or not? First, just asking the question was important. Second, not having an answer was equally important. I asked a question and spent time with the Lord exploring. In the end, it turns out it wasn’t about whether or not the men sinned or not.

Just telling this account now reminds me of something I realize how much I miss. For many years, as an adult, I would spend Sunday afternoon with my parents at their home in California’s Central Coast. Year round the weather was pleasant. Dinner was always served at 6:30, and was the big weekly meal. Usually during the meal we would talk, and continue some discussion long after eating. Occasionally the discussions became a bit heated, as is natural, as we disagreed on something. I learned from those discussions so many things. Not just about my Father, and his views, but ways to see the world. With him I was free to express everything I might be thinking, and while we may seem to argue about something, and he may say, “You’re cuckoo, or something,” it wasn’t him being mean. He didn’t put be down for what I might say. When things did get heated, my Mother would say, “Turned out nice again!” It was her way of saying, “Okay, boys, enough is enough, give it a break.”

The last time I saw my Father alive, he could barely speak; the Parkinson’s Disease had so affected him. I last saw my Mother when we buried my Father in a National Cemetery not far from where I was born. A bugler played taps. A rifle squad fired a twenty-one rifle salute. As we said good-bye, she said with almost no Welsh accent left, “We did good, didn’t cry.” Then tears welt up in our eyes.

It wasn’t many months later that we spoke on the phone. She was not feeling well. Her doctor said it was the flu. As we hung up, she said, “I love you.” I said, “I love you.” It was something that had never happened before. That night she died of meningitis.

This past week has been with my Heavenly Father like those dinner conversations with my birth Father, who would have turned 94 this month.

One day we’ll all sit around a table and dine together at the Feast. What a glorious day that will be. And truly it will have “Turned out nice again.”

Dreams and Why I don’t usually Dwell on Them

Dreams come easily to me during the night. While I rarely sleep during the daytime,when I do I’ll dream then too. Mostly I don’t dwell on my dreams, letting them alone to have their way, and be forgotten. Some, though, are so vivid, so intense, that I have to write them down so that I can later return to them to take a closer look.

Early one morning recently, I dreamed two interesting dreams that persisted in my mind for some time. In one, I am on my touring bicycle, in the left lane of a road. I am about to turn left on to a highway that rises sharply upward into the mountains. A car that might be a Land Rover with a large pipe grill guard appears from my left, and looks like it is going to force me to move right. I desperately want to stay in the left lane, and I refuse to move over. As the vehicle comes up next to me, I seem to know now what the driver is going to do; he’s going to let me catch a ride with him. I grasp the front grill guard with my left hand and the Land Rover powers me up the hill. All is going well until we come to an overhead bridge crossing the highway. It looks like I won’t be able to make it underneath it. This doesn’t make sense, of course, as I am riding next to the man. We do make it beneath the bridge, and I see that there is plenty of room. Then we come to another bridge. I am not going to make it under this one. Some how I am now on top of his vehicle and I must ride on to the overhead bridge. I do so, and stop. I look around and I see that this isn’t a normal bridge, and that I’m stuck up on what appears to be a roof across the highway with no way done.

In another bicycle dream the following day, I was on same stretch of highway. The other vehicle was going the same speed as I was, and we came to the top of the mountain at the same time. But apparently the other vehicle was in need of a rest, or its occupants. I offered to take them to my grandparents home, which in the dream was close to that mountain pass. We arrived and were sorting out where we were going to sleep, when I saw my grandmother sleeping on the deck. She got up and I thought it odd that she was there, as I’d thought my grandparents were away. Then my grandfather came in and we spoke for a minute. I left the room and the people I’d brought to the house began to speak with my grandparents in either Norwegian or Dutch. I thought that odd, as I didn’t think my grandparents spoke any other language except English. At some point we were all getting ready to leave, and I had a plant I was going to leave with my grandparents. I also was leaving some stuff in a locker in their house.

Looking at these dreams, I discover that the highway is Highway 101, the old 101, from back in the early 1970s, where it ascends from San Luis Obispo, CA, to a pass near Cuesta Peak. The highway continues north along the Salinas river, past Atascadero and Paso Robles, then onward to San Miguel and Camp Roberts. I am very familiar with this highway. I lived in the area many years. Back to the dream. It seems that in the first dream someone is trying to help me, and ends up getting me into a mess. In the second dream, the people are alongside, but later at the summit I help them. The end of the dream is okay.

This morning it occurred to me why I don’t immediately mull over my dreams when I arise. The day begins too quickly; the clock alarm sounds, I rise up to awake the dawn. . .

My heart is steadfast, O God,
my heart is steadfast!
I will sing and make melody!
Awake, my glory!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
I will awake the dawn!
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples;
I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is great to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over all the earth.

—Psalm 57:8-11

. . . though certainly not as King David describes.

Up at 5:30. First things first, letting out the dogs, feeding the cats. Making a salad for my wife to take to work, and coffee in a travel mug for her to sip during her commute. Wishing her well as she leaves the house. Asking of the Lord His blessings upon our family, to watch over us, to work in and through us—all while cleaning up the kitchen mess. Doing dishes left from the night before. Adding to a list kept handy things to buy from the store on the next trip. Thinking of things to be done during the day. Letting the dogs inside, giving them each a biscuit.

Whew! Deep breath. . . fix a bowl of oatmeal, add honey, pour a cup of coffee. Open Daily Tehillim and find the day’s Psalm. Today it’s Psalm 39. King David is writing the Psalm “To the Chief Musician; for Yetoodoon.” I switch over to another web page to search on Yetoodoon, wanting to know to whom King David refers. I’m easily distracted. I look at an email. I think of something that I want to do tomorrow, that needs some preparation today. I push my head back to the Psalm. It’s a Psalm about the fragility of humankind. According to one commentary (Jamieson, Fauset, and Brown), “. . .depressing views of his frailty and the prosperity of the wicked, the Psalmist, tempted to murmur, checks the expression of his feelings, till, led to regard his case aright, he prays for a proper view of his condition and for the divine compassion.”

Behold, thou hast made my days as handbreadths; And my life- time is as nothing before thee: Surely every man at his best estate is altogether vanity.

Psalm 39:6

“David composed this chapter while suffering from a painful and debilitating illness, which caused him such discomfort and distress that he had to restrain himself from speaking harshly against God.” — Daily Tehillim

I recall a sermon in which the preacher explained that King Solomon was severely depressed when he wrote Ecclesiastics, and declared Vanity, Vanity. All is Vanity. The sermon attempted to counter this depressing notion; it echoed the theme, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Huh! I suppose depression ran in the family then, as King David says it too. Or perhaps there is another way of looking at life here on Earth. “In our greatest health and prosperity, every man is altogether vanity, he cannot live long; he may die soon. This is an undoubted truth, but we are very unwilling to believe it. Therefore let us pray that God would enlighten our minds by his Holy Spirit, and fill our hearts with his grace, that we may be ready for death every day and hour.” — Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary.

Psalm 39, while somber, teaches “the proper approach to suffering. David does not purport to give a definitive explanation for suffering, and he acknowledges the instinctive drive to challenge divine justice during periods of pain and anguish. He demands, however, that a person overcome this natural tendency and approach suffering as a call to introspection and repentance. Rather than insist on his righteousness and cast allegations against God, one should instead recognize his frailty and shortcomings and appeal to the Almighty for compassion and forgiveness.” — Daily Tehillim.

It’s almost nine o’clock in the morning. There are people to pray for, things to do, maybe even places to go. And I still want to watch the rest of a YouTube video of a sermon by Pastor David Wilkerson, “Moving your Mountain.”

And what of last night’s dreams? I have yet to take a complete look at the two bicycle dreams, let alone the many that I’ve had since. Are dreams meant to be examined, explained? Or do they operate on us without intervention?

Wait. I return to Daily Tehillim commentary on Psalm 39 in which the author says, “David does not purport to give a definitive explanation for suffering. . .” Here’s the rub, as the expression goes: good people and children suffer. Who can watch shows about St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital and the kids it treats without feeling so badly for the children with cancer. Children. Suffering. Dying. We question why bad things happen. We question why bad things happen to good people. The Lord Y’shuaJesus was asked about a man’s disabilities and what sin was it that caused it. Job’s wife, responding to Job’s suffering, told him to curse G-d and die. It’s G-d’s fault. He’s to blame. Should we raise our fists toward Heaven, cursing G-d for the suffering of good and innocent people?

The lesson from King David is that despite suffering, whether ours or others’, we must hold our tongues, restrain ourselves, from speaking harshly against G-d. We must learn to find some contentment—as Apostle Paul did—in all things. The question may not be why people suffer, why we suffer, but rather are we so righteous, so good, that we shouldn’t suffer. Isn’t that vanity?