One Day

Better is one day in Your courts,

Better is one day in Your house;

Better is one day in Your courts,

Than thousands elsewhere.

If you've ever heard Matt Redman's song, Better Is One Day, you know it's a catchy little chorus. But did you know it's based on Psalm 84:10?

For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand.

I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God

Than dwell in the tents of wickedness.

I want to expound on this a bit today. The gist is, one day serving the Lord, one day in His court is better than a thousand lived in any other place. Ever been on vacation? Ever been sorry to leave? "Getting away" is called that for a reason: we get away from the ordinary, the pressures, the reality of things like bills and work. We are given the opportunity to escape, and it's hard to return. Just one more day! But in this verse, the psalmist is saying, "I'd rather spend one day in the company of my King than a thousand elsewhere." Robert Alter, in his translation of the book of Psalms, renders the first line of this verse, "...better is one day in your courts than a thousand I have chosen." What does the company of my King look like? There are times of spontaneous joy in the company of my King! I sing and dance as I bread cutlets for dinner or lift my face toward the sun, breathing in fresh air as I walk the dog; I snuggle down deep between clean, crisp sheets at the end of the day. I am grateful for all he provides! Or I am met with smiles and gratitude as I teach, or donate blood, or serve others at the church picnic. I spend a few moments texting a sister in Christ, celebrating with her the good report she received from her oncologist. The joy of the Lord is in this place! Moments of pleasure and ease and fulfillment, and I know I am in the presence of my King. Please let me stay! Just one more day!

But some days the company of my King looks like hunger. When I'm called to fast and pray, and my stomach is growling so loudly I think it's about to burst forth like a scene from Predator, God is drawing me nearer to Him. Some days the company of my King looks like weeping. The pressure of life, the grief of loss, the pain of existence in an almost sixty-year-old body, sorrow for things I have done --all cause me to fall on my face before the King, weeping and trusting Him as my Comfort and Salvation. Other days the company of my King is serving with all I've got, my calendar full, my body sore, my mind approaching overload, but my Lord and Savior near, sustaining me. The company of our King doesn't always look like the world's delights. Yes, it's a blessed place to be, but it's sometimes uncomfortable. Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart." A broken heart? That's not where I want to stay! Times of hunger and pain and grief, God allows them that we might draw closer and become more like Him. We may not even realize it, but anything to the contrary, and we are choosing those "thousand days" in a place where God is not. We may be given a time of rapture and peace, but it is our plan for it to go on like that forever on this ground. Like Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration, we are eager to preserve this taste of eternity. In so doing, however, we have left the presence and will of God. We are not where He is. We attempt to create heaven on earth, our own Eden, and we are content to stay there. But eternity is long, and there are things not meant to be fulfilled or experienced before God's time. We are to be satisfied --content, Paul says (Phil. 4:11-13) --because Christ is our strength to endure the day.

It is enough, as the psalmist continues, that we serve in the most menial way, for just one day in the company of the King, than remain in the most opulent, abundant place, stay in any place of our choosing without Him for thousands of days. It should be enough for us as well, that we receive whatever conditions His presence requires in the natural --broken-heartedness as well as exuberance, heavy-lifting as well as rest; each day celebrating whatever He gives us to do, and knowing it is better than a thousand in service to ourselves.

Midweek: As the Window for Our Graduates Begins to Close

The following was written by Ericka Loynes and was printed in Guideposts' Mornings with Jesus May/June 2023:

And He said to them, "Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of people." 
~ Matthew 4:19 (NASB)

As high school graduation approached, I found myself trying to teach my son all of the life skills I felt he still needed to learn before he left for college. Once I showed him how to do something new, I expected him to immediately apply that knowledge and be proficient. Clearly, my expectation was unrealistic.

I can be impatient with other people's development. Thankfully, Jesus doesn't respond the same way. When He recruited the disciples, they were not instantly the scholars, preachers, missionaries, teachers, evangelists, and martyrs that I read about in the Bible. In fact, they were self-centered (Matthew 18:1-4), unreliable (Matthew 26:36-45), and hot-tempered (Matthew 26:47-54). It was only after they followed Jesus, made mistakes, and learned tough lessons along the way that they developed into the "fisher of men" He was training them to be (Matthew 4:19).

Just like Jesus was patient with the pace of His disciples' growth, I must be patient with my son. As much as I wish my accelerated training prepared him for every possible scenario that will come his way, I recognize that he'll benefit from facing life's challenges, making his own decisions, and learning from his mistakes.

~ Ericka Loynes

Will God Liberate Me from This Season?

What is your favorite season? My apologies to the beachgoers, but summer is definitely my least favorite. I don't mind heading out for a walk, getting all stinky and sweaty, but then it's back in the house and I'm sealed up like canned corn. No grocery shopping with the smell of wilted produce wafting from the trunk. No outdoor barbecues with my make-up pooling under my eyes. And definitely no sand. But what would life be like without seasons? Seasons happen because life is lived. Autumn is creation's preparation for rest after a busy season nearest the sun. Spring is nature's awakening, new life appearing, and old life being renewed with vigor. Summer and winter are seasons of stability; that which has been birthed is now living to its fullest, that which has fallen to decay rests quietly on the forest floor awaiting the time it will nourish new life. The alternative to any of these things is unthinkable.

Seasons in life are just like that. (In fact, it's sort of funny when you hear folks talk about seasons --it's the difficult times we label "seasons": we like to keep our eye on the fact, seasons come and go. During the easier, more productive or more prosperous times, we tend to think that is simply "how life is supposed to be.") Life being lived results in seasons, but seasons can be difficult and unwelcome. We may ask God to liberate us. Just make things stable, or normal, or pleasant. The price of that, however, is life truly lived. If we could all just choose to be canned corn, stay in our climate-controlled environments, never experience loss or joy, trouble or sunlight, joblessness or success, we would have no seasons. But we'd have no life either. What if every day was a "good" day? What if we never got sick and there was never any reason to discipline our children? What if finances were never tight and the car always ran perfectly? That would be wonderful! you say. Would it? How long before we were bored? How long before "good" became "Let's do better" or "Let's get more"? And don't bad days give us an appreciation for good days? This world was never meant to satisfy us. And it doesn't. The seasons we go through prepare us for something eternal. Going through those difficult seasons changes how we think about life, how we approach problems, and who we rely on to get us through them.

So often we just "want this season to end." I've said it. I've even looked back to seasons I know were difficult and longed for them like Israel longed for fish and leeks, "if only God will get me out of where I am now!" However, I serve a God who works all things out for my good. And while that's an encouraging promise when I'm in the midst of a hard season, it also means I'm probably going to remain in that season until things are worked for my good. Ooops! 

Jesus came that we might have abundant life, a life lived! That means there will be seasons: seasons of growth in which we are prospered and stretched or humbled and bent; seasons of decay where those things within us that must be crucified will fall to the forest floor and become fertilizer for eternal things; seasons of stability where every day is the same as the next and quiet is the only sound we hear; seasons of unrest and turbulence and busyness where all that growth is put to the test in an exhaustive outpouring of service. And God will liberate us, but I think we have to be careful we're not so quick to cry Uncle!