Giants?
Song of the Week: COZIVA, by Scott Apple (2024)
Book of the Week: Following Jesus, by Henri Nouwen (2019)
I had coffee this morning with a good friend. Before I tell you about it, I’d like you to know that’s one of my favorite things. On the scale of stuff that brings me joy and/or life, it’s up there with baseball, live music, and going to bed knowing I don’t have anywhere to be the next day. I just feel like that’s important for you to know, if we’re going to be friends.
The coffee was great - we talked about a variety of things, including the topic of faith (shocker). I shared that there are times when it feels like my intimacy with God swings on a pendulum. There are times when the space between God and I feels paper thin; like we’re walking beside each other and I can see his hand molding and shaping the terrain in front of me. Other times, I slip into some pretty visceral, almost, nihilism? Sort of echoing David’s question “will you forget me forever?” I think believers are skittish to admit it, but we all feel that way from the time; distant, abandoned, confused, and the thing is: we’re in good company. Think of Habakkuk thinking God had surely abandoned His people, only to be told “if I told you what I was doing, you wouldn’t believe me (Habakkuk 1:5)” by God. Or what about the author of Ecclesiastes on their escapades? A road well traveled, to be certain.
Getting back to David, something I’ve always found fascinating about David’s Psalms is he most often bookends his laments, his kicking and screaming, with praise. He literally commands his soul to praise the Lord, as if to tell his heart what to do (Psalm 103). A little counter cultural, if we’re honest - who am I to tell my feelings they’re wrong, or more specifically, that my feelings don’t reflect reality and in such a case, after being acknowledged, ought to be reminded of the truth?
How do we do this? What is the truth, and then what are we to do with it? I was struck this week by the story of Caleb in Numbers. The Israelites have arrived at the Promised Land after escaping Egyptian captivity, and they stop short and send a regiment of spies to scurry around town and make a report. A month or so later, Caleb and the boys return to give word; it’s a little…panicked. The rest of the team talks about how the city is indeed ripe for sustainability (part of the promise), but the people there are strong, evidently good fighters, and the cities are big with beefy defenses. Oh, and there’s literal giants there.
This is a case study on it looking like God isn’t going to follow through on his word. There’s so much to say here: how often do we crap on Israel for being dumb and unfaithful as if we wouldn’t be worse in their shoes? Back to Caleb - in the midst of the doubt, he stands up and “silenced the people before Moses and said, ‘We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.’” (Numbers 13:30, NIV). Here we have our moment, and an opportunity to talk about the difference between knowing the truth, and living it out. At the root of all truth are the promises of God and here’s the situation: Israel knew God’s promises, Caleb trusted them. The implications are profound - trust in God’s promises allow us to minister to our communities, to bring peace where there is panic, and to look to the future with, not just optimism, but certainty; which in and of itself is a big deal. Books could be written right there, but this is a journal, and for some reason I feel compelled to end it there and leave you with this question: are you living out the promises of God?
In love,
Josh
