“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?” Psalm 42:1-2

owl in Paula's backyard

Note:  Psalm 42 (and 43) is a poignant, contemplative poem written by a man exiled in the far northern reaches of Palestine. He longs to return to Jerusalem so he can once again worship God at the Temple there. His song is written for and dedicated to the sons of Korah, the descendants of Levi, the Temple priests.

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I am an early riser. Most mornings I’m up by 4:30 or so, and I find nothing more pleasant than greeting my Lord and the promising new day by watching the stars and constellations fade as the sun rises in the eastern sky. At that magical time of morning the house lies tranquil and hushed—the phones, TV, radio, and other devices still fast asleep along with the rest of the household. Outside in the dew-laden yard, deer, rabbits, and squirrels gambol past my window as sated horned owls and peregrine falcons settle in the aspens after a long night’s hunt.

I look forward to my early mornings when it’s just me and God and my steaming cup of jasmine-scented green tea, and everything He created affirms His Being. It’s a time for reading my Bible. It’s a time for taking long prayer walks where I speak and God listens, but most importantly where the Lord speaks and I listen. God is alive and I am alive and the whole Earth vibrates with the wonder of His glory. Nothing in this world is more important to me, for I understand that all too soon the troubles of the day will come knocking. All too soon the trials of life will strive to erode this “centeredness in the Lord,” this heavenly substance of peace and satisfaction He and His creations have so freely provided.

For me this communion must take place daily, because it is like the manna God sent every morning to feed the Israelites as they wandered in the desert—here for the gathering just after dawn but all too soon melted away as the heat of the day advances.

Like the exiled writer of this psalm, my soul continually thirsts for God. I yearn for the bliss of His Presence. When I am tangled in life’s daily difficulties and the Lord seems far away and out of reach, I remember these mornings and the ecstasy of drinking from The Fountain that will never run dry. I long to return again and again to that gathering place where it’s so easy to unburden my heart, hear His voice, and be comforted. How foolish if I should forget to seek God first in all things Paula, for it is only in the Lord’s Presence that harmony, peace, and the answers to all my questions lie.

Pam

deer in Paula's front yard

It is, at times, too easy for me to become complacent in my walk with God. I get busy and distracted by minutiae. Before I know it, God is on the back burner. I cut short Bible study and prayers. My writing, which is a spiritual discipline for me, is ignored totally (as seen by the large time gap since our last blog). I let the world, my old self, and the enemy convince me that other things take priority. I have to find work, earn money, and whip myself into a panic over the state of the economy. I can’t waste time perusing the Bible or dillydallying around writing something that no one is paying me for. There’s work to be done and people to please.

What is my reward for my busy-bee mentality? It is less than nothing. Hollow, empty days and “a mind flattened by the world.”* A life without God is a faded image, lacking color or life. How unnecessary. Jesus assures that if we put Him first, everything else will fall into place (Matthew 6:33).  Seeking God is always the number one priority and what my heart and soul longs for.

A.W. Tozer said it so much better than I ever could in his highly recommended book The Pursuit of God:  “The continuous and unembarrassed interchange of love and thought between God and the soul of the redeemed man is the throbbing heart of New Testament religion.”  We are made in the image of God. To paraphrase Tozer, if we remove sin from the equation, we are in little what God is in large. It is a natural law that like attracts like. Deep calls to deep (Psalm 42:7). Our magnetic north is always our Father in heaven. To deny our longing for Him is to deny who we are in essence.

I love how the psalmist characterizes the God we thirst for. We long for a living God, a Heavenly Father who is as real and present in the fabric of our lives as our family and friends. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, we can have just such a relationship. We can meet God here and now.

I praise Jesus, that my days when God has been removed to the background are becoming fewer and farther apart.

*From a footnote in the Renovaré Bible.