July 6th...Quite a hiatus!!

It has been, yet again, some time since I last updated the ole' blog. Safe to say that I am not addicted...For the next 4 weeks I am speaking on Wednesday nights. We are doing a series at the moment based on titles of the songs we sing in worship...coming from the angle of how so often what we sing is at the core of our theology, and how when we sing such things we rarely let it soak in what we are singing about. I am constructing the first of these 4 sermonettes coming out of Psalm 63, one of my absolute favorite Psalms. Being the worship-junkie that I am, something came to my mind as I read the middle portion of Psalm 63 that I apparently just have skipped over in past sittings. It prompted a question I need to ask myself constantly. How often, in moments of spiritual and physical longing and thirst do we rejoice in worship; realizing that we are held in the palm of God's hand, "under the shadow of God's wings?" Do we...can we...truly get our hands around the fact that regardless of how awful our life is or how wonderful life is at any given time, God's all-encompassing love is better than life. If I read this Psalm now, it speaks to me that whatever state our life is in at any given moment, our minds, hearts, souls and strength should be so overcome with the depth of God's love that we shouldn't be able to keep from singing, worshipping, outstretching our hands in praise to God, awaiting to receive his blessing. When is the last time we lay awake in bed at night, unable to sleep, because we were so overcome with the incredible-ness of the love of God?

Read the words of this olden hymn, recently reworked by MercyMe, original words, still intact...
"The Love of God" F.M. Lehman, c.1917

The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star and reaches to the lowest hell;

Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill, and every ma a scribe a trade;
To write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Tho stretched from sky to sky.

Oh, love of God, how rich and pure! How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure the saints' and angels' song.