The “dumps” is an easy place to find yourself if you aren’t careful.  In fact, lately I have visited more times than I care to admit.  If the doctors’ timetable holds, this could be an exciting year for me and I don’t mean that in a good way.

              I try to remind myself every day that “the dumps” is a dangerous place to be.  Cain found out when his visit there led him to kill his brother.  After offering his unacceptable sacrifice, God had warned him, “Why are you angry, and why has your countenance fallen?  If you do well, will you not be accepted?  And if you do not do well, sin couches at the door,” Gen 4:6,7, ASV.

              That word “couch” is a little odd to us.  We seem to think that God made a typo, and usually read it “crouch.”  The old King James says, “Lies at the door,” but that misses the connotation—an animal hunched up and ready to spring on its unwary prey.  Just like a lion, we might think, and isn’t that appropriate when we consider who exactly is waiting at the door for us and why? 

              When you allow yourself to visit “the dumps” you make yourself a prime target.  Grief certainly isn’t wrong, disappointment isn’t a sinful emotion, anger isn’t either according to Ephesians 4, but every one of those “downers” make us vulnerable to something that is sinful—bitterness, malice, and vengeance, just to name a few.

              “Get out of there,” God told Cain, but Cain stayed.  Instead of changing his attitude, his anger and disappointment became resentment and he slew his brother.

              When we wallow in the mires of sadness, we are far more prone to blame it all on God and give up our faith.  When we flounder around in the seas of anger, we are more apt to lash out.  If we tend toward hurt feelings, we are more likely to think badly of a perfectly innocent brother or sister, and then act on that bad feeling.  And every one of those “countenances” has to do with me making myself the center of attention.  When all I think about is me and how I feel and what has happened to me, Satan is leading me as if he were a compass, straight to the place where I will be more likely to fall.

              How do you stay out of the dumps?  Do well, God told Cain.  When you are doing, you are far less likely to get into trouble.  When others become the center of your attention, you will suddenly find you have left “the dumps.”  Satan will have no hand hold on you.  He can only get a good grip when your countenance falls, your mood dips, or your attitude sours on people and life in general.  Then he will step right up and be the friend you think you need, the one who says, “Of course you deserve better than this, of course they were mean to you, of course God has deserted you.”

              Have you been hearing those words lately?  Be careful.  You are visiting the dumps again and the owner of that junkyard is not your friend.
 
When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart, I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you. Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge, that I may tell of all your works. Psa 73:21-28                       
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have heard it too.  “God wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”

              We have completely misunderstood the purpose of God when we think our happiness here has anything to do with it.  If it is possible, I believe he wants it so, but if it isn’t, if I have gotten myself into a fix that cannot be unraveled, if my being miserable in this life will accomplish his purpose, I know which matters more to him.  He is in the position to see the end, while I am stuck here seeing only the here and now and, far too often, neither learning from the past nor considering the future.  God knows what is best, and what is best is eternal salvation—the next life, not this one. 

              God has been saying this for thousands of years, but just like the ones who did not want to hear what Jesus had to say about his kingdom, we don’t want to hear what God has had to say about our physical lives. 

              Think of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others who suffered long and hard to accomplish their missions.  Think of Josiah who, because of his diligence in restoring the worship of Jehovah among his people, was given the reward of an early death—he would not have to see their punishment.  Think of John the Baptist who lived a short life precisely because God wanted it that way.  He had accomplished what was necessary—preaching repentance and preparing the people for the Messiah.  That mattered more than living a long, “happy” life.   He even came to realize it when he told his disciples, “He must increase and I must decrease.”  In this case, his “decrease” meant he had to be removed so the conflict, and even the jealousy, between his disciples and Jesus’ disciples would disappear.  Imagine what that would have done to God’s plan.  God used the machinations of a wicked woman to do it, but his purpose was accomplished, and John, the greatest ever born at the time (Matt 11:11), never had a normal “happy” life. 

              When did Paul say that David died?  Not after he got old and had lived a full life, but after “serving the purpose of the Lord,” Acts 13:36.  That’s what he was here for, and nothing else.  If you could talk to him now, I bet you he would say that the sorrows he bore were well worth it. 

              Paul makes a distinction between walking “in the flesh” and “according to the flesh,” 2 Cor 10:2,3.  He talks about people who make decisions “according to the flesh,” 1:17; he mentions those who live their entire lives not as people interested in their spiritual lives, but only in their physical lives, 1 Cor 3:1-3.  We may have to live as physical beings, but God expects us to keep our minds on the spiritual not the physical; on his purpose, not our selfish aims; on the eternal, not the temporal. 

              It is not my plans that matter.  Do I think that because I was only a Eunice I had no hand in the salvation of the souls Timothy’s preaching produced?  Do I think that because I was a Zebedee I had nothing to do with what my sons accomplished for the kingdom?  Those two people certainly fulfilled an important part of God’s plan.  To have tried to have been something other than they were because of their own selfish ambitions would have been to second guess God’s plan.

              Sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Sometimes God does want us to be unhappy in this life, if it means the salvation of souls.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain unmarried if they have ruined their chances for a scriptural marriage.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain in miserable marriages as long as possible.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain celibate if their “natural” tendency is to gravitate toward a sinful relationship.  Yes, he does mean for some to spend years of their lives paying society for their crimes even though they have repented.  Yes, he does mean for us to give up our life plans for the sake of his Eternal Plan.  Yes, he does mean for us to suffer illness and die, to be victims of accidents and calamities and perish, “for time and chance happen to all.”  If I think being happy in this life on this earth is the aim, I have missed the point of my existence altogether. 

              So whether or not I become blind in this life, whether you live long or die early, whether your marriage is good or bad, whether you feel fulfilled in your chosen occupation, none of those is the issue.  The question is, what can I do for God?  What can I do for others?  What can I do to ensure my own soul’s salvation?  Until I can accept God’s plan for me with joy, especially when it is something I do not want and had not planned on, I am not yet living the attitude “thy will be done.”
 
For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, Rom 14:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

The final post on the five psalms of Lament (Lanentations).

               The fifth lament is often labeled "a prayer."  This wicked nation has finally admitted its guilt and asks God to "remember," "restore," and "renew" His covenant with them.  What did it take to make them reach this point?  Being shamed and disgraced for all the world to see.  Before, they viewed themselves as the greatest nation in the world because they had been "chosen" by God.  It made them indomitable, they believed.  God would never suffer disgrace Himself and that is exactly what would happen if the people He was supposed to protect were conquered.  Their pride kept them from seeing the Truth—when they broke the covenant, God was no longer bound by it.  His bride had been unfaithful and He cast her off.  Finally, their pride was broken. 

Remember, O LORD, what has befallen us; look, and see our disgrace! ​
Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, our homes to foreigners.
We have become orphans, fatherless; our mothers are like widows.
We must pay for the water we drink; the wood we get must be bought...​
Slaves rule over us; there is none to deliver us from their hand. ​
We get our bread at the peril of our lives, because of the sword in the wilderness.
Our skin is hot as an oven with the burning heat of famine.
Women are raped in Zion, young women in the towns of Judah. ​
Princes are hung up by their hands; no respect is shown to the elders.
Young men are compelled to grind at the mill, and boys stagger under loads of wood. ​
The old men have left the city gate, the young men their music... ​
​The crown has fallen from our head; woe to us, for we have sinned! (Lam 5:1-16)

               Now they can admit their sin and their dependence upon God, and ask for His forgiveness.
​Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old-- (Lam 5:21).

             And what can we learn from this?  Pride may be one of the worst problems this generation has.  We are imbued with the notion of self-esteem from birth, it seems.  The inability to admit wrong and lower oneself in the presence of One more mighty and righteous has made it impossible to teach anyone about God and His Laws.  Everything is judged by emotion and "the right" to an opinion, instead of black and white Truth. 
 
              I have heard more people, including Christians, arguing with God, denouncing God when things go wrong, telling God exactly what they expect Him to do for them than I ever have before.  "Why, after all my faithfulness?" they ask when a trial comes, as if God owes them a perfect life here on earth. 
There is little appreciation for the seriousness of sin, especially those "little ones."  In fact it has become something to joke about.  The fact that all it took to ruin this world was one bite from a piece of fruit seems to escape everyone's notice.  That one little bite was an open indictment of God by His creation.  "You're just being mean not to let us eat this," Adam and Eve were saying, falling headlong into Satan's trap.

             In the church today we have a problem similar to Israel's.  God's people then still showed up every Sabbath Day and offered every sacrifice the Law required.  We think that because we are so careful to keep every ritual exactly the right way that we are immune from any judgment.  We have become "the chosen."  Meanwhile, our hearts are just as bad as our neighbors' and our care in following the Biblical pattern doesn't extend beyond the church house door.  A pattern of lifestyle—"conformed to the image of His Son"—never enters the equation.

             The only way to reconcile ourselves to God is to surrender, to admit wrong, and to prostrate ourselves and our hearts before the Most Holy.  "The just shall live by faith,"  God told Habakkuk as the Babylonians approached, a faith that accepts the will of God and stays faithful in all areas of life, no matter how rough things may get. 

             "The Babylonians" may yet fall upon us in our lives, either individually or as a group.  I can see the day drawing near in the things happening in our culture.  It's time to reject our pride and self-sufficiency if we hope to avoid the things this people had to endure in whatever fashion they may take.  Perhaps we won't have to learn these things the hard way.
 
Let us test and examine our ways, and return to the LORD! ​Let us lift up our hearts and hands to God in heaven: (Lam 3:40-41)
 
Dene Ward

For the chastisement of the daughter of my people has been greater than the punishment of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment, and no hands were wrung for her. (Lam 4:6)
              The fourth Lament may be the hardest one to read.  Many of the ladies in our study shuddered involuntarily as the verses piled horror upon horror in their ears and minds.  Even the pagans were astounded at the wrath of God.  The kings of the earth did not believe, nor any of the inhabitants of the world, that foe or enemy could enter the gates of Jerusalem. (Lam 4:12)
              Then we turned back to the original covenant.  Read Deut 28:28-57 today for your daily reading, and then find the fulfillment of all these things in the fourth Lament, as well as scattered in the prophets.  But here especially, verse after verse, reminds the people exactly why they are experiencing these horrible things. 
              "But we are the chosen people," they said again and again as they ignored prophet after prophet. …He will do nothing; no disaster will come upon us, nor shall we see sword or famine (Jer 5:12). "God won't destroy us," which in their minds meant "God can't destroy us because of all His promises."  They forgot one thing.  Precisely because of the covenant, when they broke their end of it, God was forced to keep His end to remain righteous, and His part was administering justice.  He could not remain holy and faithful and not punish them. 
              And so what is the lesson for us?  We have a new covenant with God.  He has told us several times what will happen with those who have "trodden underfoot" the blood of his Son, the blood of that new covenant.  The religious world wants to assuage your fears with the same sort of talk as the false prophets of old, crying, "Peace, peace, when there is no peace" (Jer 6:14).  A loving God would never punish or destroy; He would never send anyone to hell, they say in all their theological sophistication.
              The writer of the fourth Lament would beg to differ.  God did it once.  He will most certainly do it again.
 
See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. (Heb 12:25-29)

Dene Ward

The third Lament begins exactly like the first two—long lists of the terrible things God's people had to endure.  But there is a difference here too.  While the first two are written in third person or as Jerusalem herself, this one is personal and individual:  I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of his wrath; (Lam 3:1).  He goes on to describe his afflictions in detail, but suddenly, in the middle of all this despair, for the first time, he interjects some hope.

              Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ​“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” (Lam 3:19-24)

              If you have read the entire lament, the first thing you will think is, "Wait a minute!  The writer just said in verse 18 that his hope has perished."  Evidently, according to Evan and Marie Blackmore in Let Us Search Our Ways, this is a type of construction common to Hebrew poetry where a thought is put out for consideration and then discussed.  Eventually the writer dismisses the notion of a lost hope.  And why?  Because of "the steadfast love of the Lord." 

              "Steadfast love," or "lovingkindness" in other versions, is covenant language.  After a while you begin to recognize certain words and phrases that automatically point to the covenant God made with His people.  Despite the people's failure to keep that covenant, God continues to keep his promises to Abraham and David.  He continues to love these feckless, unfaithful children of His because He is righteous, not because they are.

              The ASV on 3:22 makes this most apparent.  It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses [steadfast love] that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (Lam 3:22)

              Even looking at all the horrible things that have happened to the people, the writer says that without God's love, things would be even worse.  The fact that God's care for them can be seen at all—they are still alive!--gives them hope. 

              Later on the writer lists three reasons to hope:
              1) For the Lord will not cast off forever, (v 31).  Even this well-deserved punishment will come to an end. 
              2) But, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love. (v 32)  After the punishment God will show pity and compassion on His people.  He will once again bless them.
              3) ​For he does not afflict from his heart or grieve the children of men. (v 33). God did not send this punishment because it pleased him, but to bring about repentance and to repair the broken relationship.

              And so in the midst of our trials today, we can still have hope.   Remember that it will eventually end.  "This too shall pass," we often say, and it will.  Not only that, but God will have pity on us.   His blessings will not cease.  We may just have to look a little harder for them for a while.  And God never sends trials out of spite.  Even if our trials are not for punishment as theirs was, God always has some goal in mind—strength, clarity, wisdom—something that He expects us to glean from our troubles.  They are never pointless.

              And God's compassion never fails.  No matter how bad things are, His goodness is visible in something close by.  Thorns may pierce, but the roses still bloom.  Bees may sting, but they still make honey.  God has not promised that we will never travel through dark valleys, but He has promised to go through them with us.  Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" Psalm 23:4.

              Add to all that this one constant:  grace.  The worst day we ever have is better than we deserve.  If you cannot see the hope in your trials, you will ultimately fail them. 
 
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. ​It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. ​It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. (Lam 3:25-27)
 
Dene Ward         

Question 4 on our lesson sheet for the second lament was "What is the focus of this lament?" 

              Almost in unison came the answer:  "The anger of God." 

             You couldn't miss it.  The poet uses three Hebrew nouns 7 times along with two verbal expressions for anger.  Then you have the list of things God did in His anger—and there was no quibbling about it:  God did them, not the Babylonians.  He "laid waste his booth," " laid in ruins his meetingplace," "spurned king and priest," "made Zion forget Sabbath," "scorned his altar," and "disowned his sanctuary."  He destroyed the very worship he had set up for his people and the people seemed to have no trouble recognizing that God had every right to do it.  They broke the Covenant.  It was all their fault.

              Today we all want to focus on the God of love.  I know it when I hear things like, "God wants me to be happy.  He would never be angry about such a little thing.  He would never _______________."

              First of all, what God wants is for us to be holy so we can spend an Eternity with him.  We cannot if we are anything less than pure because we couldn't—wouldn't—give up the pleasures of even the smallest of sins, and that means that sometime we won't be very "happy.".  "Sin separates you from God."  If, after all the blessings I have received from Him and after the huge sacrifice He made for me, I am so unspiritual that I cannot make a relatively insignificant sacrifice for Him in order to make myself acceptable, I deserve His anger and whatever punishment goes along with it.  Yes, He will too ____________, and even these stubborn, selfish, prideful, ungrateful, unmerciful, and unfaithful people of His eventually figured it out. 

              For us to picture God as a one-dimensional Being who only forgives and loves is nothing short of arrogant.  God as our Creator has every right to be angry with the created ones who break His laws.  When unbelievers blast God for that anger—"How could a just God allow these things to happen?"--don't think you have to apologize for Him.  He doesn't need us to explain it away in order to make Him more palatable to a shallow, ungodly, and disobedient world now any more than He did then.
 
The Lord has swallowed up without mercy all the habitations of Jacob; in his wrath he has broken down the strongholds of the daughter of Judah; he has brought down to the ground in dishonor the kingdom and its rulers. He has cut down in fierce anger all the might of Israel; he has withdrawn from them his right hand in the face of the enemy; he has burned like a flaming fire in Jacob, consuming all around. He has bent his bow like an enemy, with his right hand set like a foe; and he has killed all who were delightful in our eyes in the tent of the daughter of Zion; he has poured out his fury like fire. The Lord has become like an enemy; he has swallowed up Israel; he has swallowed up all its palaces; he has laid in ruins its strongholds, and he has multiplied in the daughter of Judah mourning and lamentation. (Lam 2:2-5)
             
Dene Ward

One of the prettiest views of our property is coming down the shady lane late in the afternoon as the western sun sets behind the tall pines.  The live oaks spread their arms over the house and carport and most of the yard, dripping with Spanish moss and providing an even deeper shade over the lush green grass.  It isn’t fancy by any means.  It isn’t the grandeur of mountains and valleys that dwarf the human spirit.  It isn’t the sculptured and manicured lawn of a great mansion.  But it’s homey and comfortable and inviting.
              All that moss is part of the charm.  We’ve had people try to tell us to remove it.  “It’s a parasite,” they tell us, a common misconception.  Actually, it’s a bromeliad, related to the pineapple.  According to the Sarasota County Forestry Division, Spanish moss, the beard of ancient live oaks, does not jeopardize the trees.  It does not steal nutrients.  It is an air plant that prefers to perch on horizontal limbs like those of live oaks, which provide more access to sunlight and water than vertical limbs.  It processes its food from the rainwater that runs off the leaves and limbs of the trees.  Nothing is stolen from the tree.  Just look around.  Moss even hangs from power lines and fences, and it seems to prefer dead trees to live ones.  So much for the myth that it’s a parasite.
              However, the moss can become so thick that it shades the leaves of the trees from the sunshine, the thing necessary for photosynthesis.  During the rainy season, thick moss can become so heavy that it breaks branches. 
              I think Spanish moss must be a little like worry.  Let’s dismiss the notion that any worry at all is a sin.  Paul talks about “the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches,” 2 Cor 11:28.  He may not use the word “worry,” but that is exactly what he is talking about—anxiety, care, concern, the “daily pressure.”  Sometimes that emotion is legitimate and we become petty when we start forbidding certain words while accepting the feelings as long as we call it something else.
              Yet worldly care and worry can rob us of our spirituality and our usefulness to God.  It can make us “unfruitful,” Mark 4:19.  It can “entangle” us in worldly pursuits, 2 Tim 2:4.  It can tell tales about our hearts with misplaced priorities, Luke 12:22,23, doubt, Luke 12:29, and lack of faith, Matt 6:30.  All of that can choke the word right out of us and when trials come, instead of trusting a God who loves us and provides our needs, we may break from the stress.
              If you have trouble with worry, camp awhile in Matthew 6.  Don’t you understand, Jesus asks, that life is more than food and clothing, v 25?  Don’t you know that God loves you even more than he loves the birds and the flowers, vv 26,30?  Are you so arrogant that you think your worry will fix anything, v 27?  Don’t you have more faith than the heathens, vv 30,32?  Jesus always has a way of laying it on the line, doesn’t he?
              While there may be legitimate concerns, things we pray about even in agony as Jesus did in Gethsemane, and there may be good things that occupy our minds, like our care for the spread of the gospel and the growth of the church and the spiritual progress of our children, don’t let the trivial things, the things of this life that you can’t do anything about anyway, become such a heavy burden that you break under its weight.  Rid yourself of the moss that robs you of the Light.  “Let not your hearts be troubled,” Jesus said, John 14:27.  He came to bring us peace instead.
 
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. John 14:27
 
Dene Ward

As we said last time, the first lament is one of overwhelming sadness.  In a mere 22 verses, the writer uses tears, weep, cry, and mourn a total of five times; distress, affliction and misery a total of seven times; sigh and groan a total of four times, and no comfort and desolate a total of seven times.  That is more words describing grief than there are verses in the lament.

              The speaker is Jerusalem herself.  She is no longer a "princess" but a "widow."   She whose streets were once full of people, is now lonely.  Her friends have become her enemies.  Even her roads mourn because they are no longer traversed by happy families traveling to celebrate the Jewish festivals. 

              In verses 8 and 9 she recognizes her sin, but at this point seems more embarrassed at the disgrace than anything else.  The pagans have seen her nakedness so she "groans and turns her face away."  "The Lord is in the right," she says. "I have been very rebellious, BUT…"

              Look at poor little me.  God has been so hard on me.  Everyone is laughing at me.  No one will comfort me.  See my suffering.  Yes, she is suffering badly, far worse than any of us ever have, but something is missing, even in her confession of sin.  She has more to learn about the purpose of punishment and the correct way to view it. 

              However, the grief itself is not wrong.  God has made that plain throughout his Word.  Even righteous men are shown to grieve, Abraham, David, Hezekiah, and Paul among them.  Even Jesus cried.  Paul told the Roman brethren to "Weep with those who weep," not look down on them and rebuke them for crying.  The promise we have ultimately is that God will wipe away all the tears from our eyes—then, not now.

              But our grief is to be different.  "We sorrow not AS those who have no hope" (1 Thes 4:13), not "We sorrow not."  And if on occasion, our grief is caused by our own sin, as with these people, we have an even larger obligation in our grief.  Godly sorrow works repentance (2 Cor 7:10).  These people are still working on that.  Eventually they will get there, but not quite yet.

              God made us to grieve.  It is human nature to miss a loved one, to be frightened by a bad diagnosis, to be overwhelmed by a loss of physical things, and especially by a spiritual loss.  It is even correct to grieve in such a dramatic and lengthy way as these people did.  As sinful as they were, when you read these laments and see what they went through, you still feel compassion and pity for them.

              But as with everything God made, He made grief to serve a purpose.  It can bring repentance, it can bring strength, it can bring clarity, and help us learn priorities.  Use it, not as self-pity, but the way He intended. 
 
Restore our fortunes, O LORD, like streams in the Negeb! ​Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. (Ps 126:4-6)

Dene Ward         

Imagine for a minute that you are vacationing in a five star resort for which you have paid big money, more than you probably should have.  The flimsy shower curtain doesn’t quite reach side to side in the bathtub, the shower stream is thin and continues to drip after you turn it off.  The room is so cold you have to dress at the speed of light.  There is no television, telephone, refrigerator, or microwave, and the bed is hard.  No toiletries are offered, no room service, and you even have to carry your own linens with you.  How happy would you be?  You would probably not have lasted one night before you demanded your money back.

            Campers put up with all of that, particularly tent campers, and they have a fine old time.  They understand going in what to expect, especially since they are paying a fraction of the amount of even a moderately priced motel.  Even when the weather is dismal, they seldom complain.  You take your chances when you live outdoors for a week.  Isn’t it interesting that the same circumstances can produce both happy people and unhappy people?

            We only wrote one letter of complaint in over 30 years of camping.  Even campers in a state park campground have every right to expect a well-drained campsite.  When it rained our last night there, not only did the site not drain well, it collected water from all the surrounding sites.  We woke up in a pool of water.  The tent floor billowed up around us when we took a step.  At least it was waterproof, or the thousands of dollars worth of Keith’s hearing paraphernalia that we keep charging in the floor overnight (since there is no furniture in a tent) would have been ruined.

            But we didn’t complain because of the rain.  We didn’t complain because it was cold enough for a foot high icicle to form under the water spigot.  We didn’t complain because the wind blew our light pole over, or the bathhouse only had two shower stalls for the whole campground.  That’s what you expect when you camp.  At least there was a bathhouse with hot running water and a heater in it!

            It doesn’t take much to be a happy camper.  Maybe that’s why God has always warned his people about a life of ease.  Take care lest… when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the LORD your God…(Deuteronomy 8:11-14).

            Our lives on this earth are often depicted as camping.  We are sojourners.  We are just passing through.  Or are we?  How much do we take for granted in these days of luxury?  Every so often I remind myself to thank God for the running water, for the electricity, for the air conditioning.  I have lost them often enough, and for long enough at times, to remember that they don’t just happen; they aren’t “inalienable rights”—they are blessings.

            Ask people today what is on their list of necessities and it will scare you to death.  An easy life makes a soft people.  Self-discipline disappears.  The ability to endure hardship is practically non-existent.  Complaining becomes an art form, and my problems are always someone else’s fault.  The worst result is the pride that causes us to forget God, Prov 30:8,9.

            The results of trials and afflictions, on the other hand, are good, Deut 8:15,16; Psa 126:5,6; 1 Pet 1:6-8; 4:13,14. They make us stronger; they remind us who is in control, and build our faith and dependence upon God.  They remind us of the love God has for his children.  I know, O Lord, that your rules are righteous, that in faithfulness you have afflicted me, Psa 119:75. 

            A parent who never says no, who never makes his child earn anything with his own hard work, who always gets him out of trouble instead of allowing him to reap the consequences of his mistakes, is not a faithful, loving parent.  These things build character.  Wealth doesn’t.  Luxury doesn’t.  Anyone who “needs” that to be happy will never in this life be a happy camper.
 
As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life. 1 Timothy 6:17-19
 
Dene Ward

My Tuesday class just finished a study of Lamentations, the first study of that book I have ever done.  Which means, of course, that I learned a lot of new things, and despite this being some of the saddest material in the Bible coming as it does immediately after the fall of Jerusalem, I have fallen in love with these little gems.

              That is the first thing I learned.  Lamentations is not one book that we have divided into five chapters.  It is five separate psalms of lament.  Once we figured that out we decided to study each one separately rather than go seamlessly from one to the other and perhaps have to stop in the middle of one if class time ran out and lose the train of thought.

              Another thing we learned:  each lament is an acrostic poem.  The patterns are not always the same, but the use of the Hebrew alphabet is prominent in them all.  In numbers one and two, each stanza has three lines and the first word of each stanza begins with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet, all 22 in order, making 22 verses in our English Bibles.  Number three is a bit more complex.  Each stanza has three lines and each line within the stanza begins with the same letter that is next in the Hebrew alphabet, making a total of 66 verses in our English Bibles.  Number four follows the pattern of numbers one and two except each stanza has only two lines instead of three.  Then you reach number five, which is not an acrostic in the strictest sense, but which still has 22 stanzas in a nod to the Hebrew alphabet.

              English poets are prone to look down their noses at acrostic poems as contrived and uncreative.  They served a real purpose in their time.  Those people did not have Bibles lying on their coffee tables.  They were used to listening and memorizing.  Knowing what letter the next stanza began with was a useful tool in that memorization. 

            Acrostics also had literary symbolism.  Using every letter of the alphabet meant a full expression of the emotion under discussion, in this case, grief.  After all this expressiveness, from A to Z we might say, nothing remains to be said.  And a study of these five poems will show you that is so.

              Number one is a poem of overwhelming sadness.  After we went through the verses and the figures of speech, the repeated words and synonyms and the nuances of expression, I read the poem aloud to the class.  They began reading along with me, but one young woman suddenly sat back, closed her eyes a second, then opened them and listened even more intently.  This poem will cut you to the heart.  You will want to weep out loud with this conquered people.

              Number two will shake you to the core.  Anger, fury, indignation, and other synonyms for the wrath of God appear several times both as nouns and verbals.  Enemy, foe, swallowed up, without pity, without mercy leave no question that what has happened is the doing of an angry God.

              Number three dwells on punishment, the reason for all this devastation and ruin, but suddenly turns close to the middle to remind the people that God is faithful.  A good God still punishes sin.  He would not be good if He did not.

              Number four brings home the consequences of breaking the Covenant.  Drawing heavily from Deuteronomy 28, the writer shows them item by item that God had warned them that this would happen, that making a covenant with the Creator involves the personal and corporate responsibility that the people had sworn to so many centuries before.

              Number five rounds out the collection.  Finally a humbled people feels remorse and repents.  They beg God for restoration and renewal, and the writer leaves it with a Hebrew idiom that seems to indicate that God's response will be positive.  After so much pain and terror, there is finally real hope.

              Do you see how the writer covers all the bases with these psalms?  Not only in the acrostics within the poems, but also by changing his focus from one psalm to the other, he has shown every possible emotion the people were feeling after the Babylonians destroyed their nation. 

              And that means we can use these words in our own struggles too.  We will all have trials in our lives, but most of us will never experience what these people did.  Surely if their grief can find expression and relief in these words, ours can too.  I plan to cover a few of those lessons in the future.  I hope you will study along with me.
 
All her people groan as they search for bread; they trade their treasures for food to revive their strength. “Look, O LORD, and see, for I am despised.” “Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of his fierce anger. (Lam 1:11-12) 
 
Dene Ward