The fine line

Every Spring, I revel in the new life that blooms into existence. Even when I lived in Mongolia, where grass and green things and flowers were in extremely short supply, there was new breath in the wind, there was renewed warmth in the sun and new blades of grass that forced their way through the harsh ground. But as I thought about blogging my Spring revel-ations, I realized that, ironically, they are nothing new. Poets have been lauding Spring's arrival for time immemorial and those less verbally inclined have done the same in their own unique ways. Anyone who has experienced the coming of Spring has felt the relief of rebirth.

So, what do I have to offer? Nothing, perhaps. Except the observation that Spring and new and rebirth lose their meaning apart from the Winter and old and death that come before them.

Psalm 77 is a subtle yet powerful picture of the glorious contrast. At the very beginning of his song, Asaph says "I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me." In and of itself, this declaration stands firmly in the realm of the miraculous--a human being can actually cry to God?? And God might hear that human's cries and help?? God has no obligation to do either of those things, particularly since humanity has turned its back on Him in ways infinitely destructive and proud.

But Asaph's statements become all the more triumphant when viewed against the backdrop of his past:

"I thought about the former days, the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night. My heart mused and my spirit inquired: 'Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has his promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?' Selah."

Asaph has reached down into the abyss of his own musings to recall the despair and anguish of feeling rejected and discarded by God; he questions the mercy of God, the promises of God, the compassion and unfailing love of God. In short, Asaph walked through a haunting shadowland of doubt in his Maker. Yet that darkness makes his Spring-like confidence shine with untold brilliance.

Indeed, the cold death of my--our--arrogance, bitterness and hurt only highlights the warm Life of our selfless, Good and healing God.

Your ways, O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God?