I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.
Psalm 40:1-3a
Psalm 40:1-3a
I cannot get these words out of my mind. They have been playing over and over in my head like a song that won’t stop. “He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog…” It’s ripping at my heart…that He drew me up…up from this pit…up from this filth.
I was listening to a sermon this weekend and the speaker mentioned how Jesus came to this earth – this miry bog – to lift me out of this pit. In the past, in my mind, as I’ve read this familiar passage He was always reaching for me from Heaven. But when I think of Him coming down to this pit, stepping into the utterly filthy world so that He might “draw me up” - suddenly I see myself there, so filthy and sinful, so unworthy of love, so broken and bruised and yet He comes. He loves me and He serves me and in the process He is dirtied by this filthy world, by this sin all around me. And with His strong arms and in His great love for me, He lifts me out and dies to do it. I don’t even reach for Him, I don’t even ask Him to…He just does. I’m overwhelmed with this thought and my sobs get stuck in my throat. The Son of God on this earth to rescue me. How can this be?
And more, He draws me up but then “sets my feet on a rock, making my steps secure.” He rescues me and then gives me a safe, firm, reliable place to stand. He doesn’t just get me out of my mess and leave me to figure the rest out on my own. He makes my steps secure. He sets me on a rock. And He puts a “new song in my mouth.” He gives all of Himself for me – to draw me out of the miry bog, He offers me security and safety and love and then He gives me His JOY.
What is breaking my heart tonight is me. I go back to that pit of destruction. I always go back. I hate that. I don’t know what sin you struggle with, I don’t know what battle you find yourself in day after day – that thing the enemy uses to lure you back into that pit, but I don’t think it matters how big or small your battle may seem. The end result is you in that pit. And for weeks now, even months, I’ve been finding myself back in that miry bog, back in that pit of my old life, the old me. I feel the filth of my sin on my skin, in my hair, on my face and I’m disgusted with myself. I am sick over the reality that I would give up the security of this Rock for the filth of that pit of destruction. But what turns my tears to sobs is the picture of Jesus stepping down in to that pit to lift me out. The filth of my sin on HIS skin, in HIS hair, on HIS face. Over and over He rescues me. Over and over He loves me. And no matter how angry and broken I may become He still whispers in my heart, “My beloved, as far as the east is from the west, I would seventy times seven.”
What love is this? Over and over He rescues me, loves and forgives with no limits, wants me like no other, and heroically draws me out from the pit and sets my feet upon a rock. I am foolish and stupid, thinking this world could offer better. I even stand on the Rock He has set me on and dare to think it isn’t enough, that there is something there in that pit of destruction worth betraying Him for. So over and over He finds me there and never once has He ever left me there. Never once has He ever forsaken me. Not once has He shamed me for ending up there. No. Never. Instead, over and over, seventy times seven, He comes down. He loves. He rescues. He cleanses. He saves.
“He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God” only with this lump in my throat and these sobs I cannot sing….all I can do is fall at His feet.
His song plays over and over in my mind. Beloved. As far as the east is from the west. I would seventy time seven.
What is breaking my heart tonight is me. I go back to that pit of destruction. I always go back. I hate that. I don’t know what sin you struggle with, I don’t know what battle you find yourself in day after day – that thing the enemy uses to lure you back into that pit, but I don’t think it matters how big or small your battle may seem. The end result is you in that pit. And for weeks now, even months, I’ve been finding myself back in that miry bog, back in that pit of my old life, the old me. I feel the filth of my sin on my skin, in my hair, on my face and I’m disgusted with myself. I am sick over the reality that I would give up the security of this Rock for the filth of that pit of destruction. But what turns my tears to sobs is the picture of Jesus stepping down in to that pit to lift me out. The filth of my sin on HIS skin, in HIS hair, on HIS face. Over and over He rescues me. Over and over He loves me. And no matter how angry and broken I may become He still whispers in my heart, “My beloved, as far as the east is from the west, I would seventy times seven.”
What love is this? Over and over He rescues me, loves and forgives with no limits, wants me like no other, and heroically draws me out from the pit and sets my feet upon a rock. I am foolish and stupid, thinking this world could offer better. I even stand on the Rock He has set me on and dare to think it isn’t enough, that there is something there in that pit of destruction worth betraying Him for. So over and over He finds me there and never once has He ever left me there. Never once has He ever forsaken me. Not once has He shamed me for ending up there. No. Never. Instead, over and over, seventy times seven, He comes down. He loves. He rescues. He cleanses. He saves.
“He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God” only with this lump in my throat and these sobs I cannot sing….all I can do is fall at His feet.
His song plays over and over in my mind. Beloved. As far as the east is from the west. I would seventy time seven.
No comments:
Post a Comment