Tuesday October 24, 2006

I just finished reading Psalm 136, the one I think of as the “for his mercy endureth forever” chapter.  At first I wanted to raise my eyebrow and say, “oh yeah?”  Where was God’s mercy when Hitler tried to eradicate the Jews?  Where is God’s mercy when I feel despair and experience yet another blow?  And then I remembered.  My God is a God of complete holiness.  A God of truth and a God of mercy.  The way he rules the earth is much more like a democracy (you make your own choices) than a dictatorship.  And I, seeing things horizontally, do not have the same perspective of God, who sees them vertically and horizontally and diagonally and inside out. 

 

Did God close his eyes to the horrendous evil acts of torture of the Gestapo agents?  No.  In perspective, how does killing several million compare to wiping off the population (except for 8) in a flood.  Merciful.  It seems worse b/c this time there are people who love the Lord being killed and the bad man is exalted.  It goes againsts my sense of fairness.  But really, if God is not a God of mercy, He would have wiped Adam and Eve off with one exhalation.  The earth could have been blown into oblivion then.  Or he could have enjoyed the earth without people.  Or he could have started over and this time created a man without choice.  A population who could only please and worship Him, the way He deserves. 

 

God is mercy.  And he proves that every morning when I wake up and get another chance to bumble around with the circumstances and decisions around me.  And so, I keep singing.

 

On a lighter note, I came to the conclusion last night that building a house has many similarities to birthing a baby.  In the first stages of labor, you feel a rush of energy, a “wow the time is here surge,” incredible adrenalin and excitement.  It doesn’t take long (maybe two months if you’re building not birthing) until you get past the first few contractions and the excitement disappears in fierce concentration.  No distractions (read, almost no social life).  No extra energy.  Just focus.  Focus.  Focus.  According to my rough calculations, we must be about 5-6 cm dilated now.  I suspect we’ll hit transition when the time rolls around to paint and David Lee is working on trimming the interior.  But for now I must focus.  Breathe.  Focus.  Oh, I can’t wait to hear the doorbell cry!