Psalm 4: Skills Worth Honing

 

 

 Let the light of your face shine on us.

—Psalm 4:6b NIV

 

I led my church’s drama team for twenty years. In that time, I heard my share of memorized and mis-memorized lines, including from my own mouth. Because memorization is a key requirement for actors, I decided we could hone this skill and grow spiritually at the same time by spending a portion of our time together memorizing scripture. I chose Psalm 4. I wrote out all eight verses on a whiteboard and we read them aloud together. Then I erased one or two random words, leaving lines in place of the missing words. We read it aloud again, filling in the blanks. We repeated that process until nothing remained on the board but blank lines. My teammates were astounded that they could remember them. Any trick that helps us hide God’s word in our hearts is legitimate if it works.

Because our ministry was done from the stage and in the spotlight, we sometimes discussed and wrestled with our private motives. Were we in this for our own glory or for God’s? For us, one of the key points of Psalm Four became the last half of verse six. How much better to ask God to shine His light on us, reflecting His glory to others. That became our prayer each time we performed. 

Questions for Reflection: How can I challenge myself to memorize more scripture? In what ways can I apply that memorized wisdom to the difficult questions of my life?

 

PSALM 3 - When You're Feeling Less-Than

 

But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.

I call out to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain.

—Psalm 3:3-4 NIV

I woke up early, eager to run to my computer and look at Amazon reviews. It was launch day of my first book, and I couldn’t wait to read the reviews. The first one knocked the wind out of my sails. It began, “I wanted to like this book, I really did.” You know that any sentence starting like that can only be followed by a but. This one certainly was, and the but was followed by a stream of abuse. 

My very first review of my very first book was so horrible, I had to laugh—between tears. Convinced my career as a novelist had ended before it even began, I said, “Well, Lord, I guess that’s that. I’m not meant to write books. At least I tried. I’ll see what else I can find to do.”

Thankfully, this initial horrendous review was soon eclipsed by many lovely ones, and I went on to publish, to date, eleven books. While my book’s reviewer can hardly be counted as an “enemy” in comparison to the enemies of David, who wrote Psalm 3 amidst the real threat of death on all sides, I certainly felt attacked and defeated. Even in small matters like a negative book review, it’s life-giving to know God is my shield on all sides. He lifts my head from shame and strengthens me for life’s journey.

Question for Reflection: Where am I allowing an enemy to defeat and discourage me instead of trusting in God as my shield?

Psalm 2: When you just can't take it anymore...

John Lennon & Yoko Ono's poster in Times Square, 1969

 

 Therefore, you kings, be wise; be warned, you rulers of the earth.
 Serve the Lord with fear and celebrate his rule with trembling.

—Psalm 1:3 NIV

The ache in my gut grew as I watched the nightly news, and questions flooded my sickened heart. Will the rioting never end? How long can a war last? Who died of hunger today? Bomb blasts? Suicide? How can the world’s leaders hold such opposing views and all believe they are right? Feeling helpless to make even the smallest change, I turned off the television and muttered, “O Lord. You see this? How can you stand it? Why can’t they all just serve you as faithful rulers and kings?”

It was a prayer of sorts, I suppose. As I read all of Psalm 2, God brought two thoughts to mind. Praying for those world leaders is not a pointless act. Though we cannot see the results, God is at work. He hears our prayers. He will make things right in his time. 

Secondly, God reminded me that each of us is the leader of a kingdom in some small way. Maybe it’s a business or family. It might be only a kitchen or a desk. For some, it’s limited to a bed or a wheelchair. No matter how small, we are each responsible for our attitudes, thoughts, prayers, deeds, and words. Imagine a world where not just every leader but every individual followed after God with their whole heart in true humble leadership. There is always something I can control. Start with that.

Questions for Reflection: Have I prayed for the leaders of my community, my church, or my country today? Am I managing my own tiny kingdom God’s way?

Sundays in the Psalms: Psalm 1

 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—
    whatever they do prospers.

—Psalm 1:3 NIV

The river property to which we moved in 1988 was populated equally by oak and poplar trees. When we moved away fifteen years later, only oaks remained in our yard. While poplars spring up quickly, they do not put down deep roots in sandy soil. Over the years, we watched the pretty but weaker poplars succumb one by one to storms—leaving us with a mess to clean up each time. 

Our family in our yard in 1994. Already, most of the poplars had fallen, leaving the stronger oaks. Our daughter is seated on one of the poplar stumps.

An oak tree takes much longer to grow but sends its roots down deep, through the sand to the rich soil and moisture below. It stands firm against the storms and lives to a ripe old age. Later, it provides the more valuable wood for sturdy furniture and cabinets. 

Another twenty years have passed, and still those oaks remain on that property. This visual has stayed with me, reminding me of the promises in this first chapter of Psalms. If I focus on what is above the surface, on what others see, I will never develop the strength I need for a fruitful, useful life. But when I allow my spiritual roots to grow deep by focusing daily on God’s ways and Word, I can be like that sturdy oak—unfazed by life’s tempests. Rooted and grounded in His love, so that I can share it with others even when difficulties come. 

Question for Reflection: What habit can I form this year to make my roots grow deeper into God’s rich soil?

What Happened to the Bech Family?

 In this series, I'm sharing some of the stories not covered in my new novel, Even If I Perish.

Not all the passengers aboard the SS City of Benares were part of the CORB program. A few private fee-paying passengers booked passage on board for various reasons. Some were VIPs on government business, others were continuing their flight from Nazi-occupied Europe. A few were mothers taking their children to North America and leaving their husbands behind to continue their contributions to the war effort.

Among the mothers was Marguerite Bech, along with her three children: Barbara, 14, Sonia, 11, and Derek, 9. Marguerite had vivid memories of Zeppelin raids during WWI and had become more and more terrified as air raids began in their small town of Bognor. As overhead dogfights took place on the Sussex coast where they lived and bombers crashed on the beach, Marguerite made the decision to take the children to Canada, where they could spend the remainder of the war with old family connections.

The Adelphi Hotel

The first leg of their journey on September 11, 1940, took them to Liverpool’s premier hotel, the luxurious Adelphi, where the children were impressed with a whole suite just for them and an ensuite bathroom—something they hadn’t seen before. They gladly settled into their beds, only to be disturbed by a knock on the door. The air-raid siren had sounded, and they were to evacuate to the basement—the former Turkish baths, or hammam. So, they packed up and spent the night on wooden benches surrounded by mosaic tiles, the crashing and banging of bombs dropping around them. Near morning, they were allowed back to their room, where they tried to grab a couple of hours of sleep before having to leave for the docks. Sonia, 11, admitted to a sinking feeling as they boarded the Benares, but in the rush and excitement around her, she quickly forgot her misgivings.

Although housed at the opposite end of the steamship from the CORB children, the Bechs were equally as impressed with the posh liner and the abundance of food onboard. They quickly made friends among the other first-class private passengers, barely aware that so many children were on board.

Marguerite made sure her children took the daily lifeboat drills seriously, wore their life jackets at all times, and kept an emergency bag packed and ready to grab in the event of an emergency. Barbara Bech later wondered whether the drills left the children with a false sense of security. Sure, they knew what to do if the alarms sounded. But they never did the drills at night or during a storm, and they never lowered the boats. “Nobody would have dreamt of discussing not getting to Canada,” she said. “We were on our way and that was it.”

When the ship was torpedoed on the night of September 17 in the middle of a storm, they felt ill-prepared indeed. They dressed and gathered at their muster station, where they awaited further instructions that did not come. Finally, a crew member burst in, shocked to find the room still full of people. “Get to your lifeboats because the ship’s going down!” he hollered. The Bech family clambered up to the lifeboat deck, but the boats had all been lowered to the water. Barbara volunteered to go down on the ropes. She’d learned to climb up and down ropes in gym class, but didn’t realize her stiff, lace-up shoes would not grip the rope. Hand over hand, she managed to lower herself to the boat below, already filled with passengers. Soon, her boat drifted away from the sinking ship without her family.

Marguerite, Sonia, and Derek ended up on a rickety raft to which they spent several hours clinging by their fingernails. At daybreak, another lifeboat picked them up. Not until they were rescued by the HMS Hurricane around six p.m. on September 18 did they learn that Barbara had survived and were reunited with her. From Scotland, the family caught a train to their home in Bognor Regis where they remained. Only Sonia eventually made it to Canada, where she taught school for three years before returning to England.

Their story can be read in more detail in Miracles on the Water: The Heroic Survivors of a World War II U-Boat Attack, by Tom Nagorski.

What Happened to John?

In this series, I'm sharing some of the stories not covered in my new novel, Even If I Perish.

John Baker was only seven years old when he boarded the SS City of Benares with his 13-year-old brother, Bobby, and 88 other British children. Together with their adult escorts, they would sail to Canada to avoid the bombings occurring almost nightly back home. They set sail on the evening of Friday, September 13, 1940, after two days and one night waiting in the Liverpool harbor for conditions to be safe.

Aboard the former luxury liner, John quickly earned the nickname The Lost Boy. “The thing was,” he explained in later years, “I found the ship a very confusing place. It was huge as far as I was concerned. I wanted to explore, as kids do, and the number of times I got lost was unbelievable.”

Fortunately for John, his brother Bobby had been instructed by their parents to look out for him. Bobby did so with such dedication that when the ship was torpedoed on the night of September 17, he made a life-altering decision.

John recalls being the first in his cabin to hear the alarm bells and wake up. The children had been told that drills can happen at any time, and he assumed it was a drill. “I had my blankets wrapped round me Navy-style in a sort of cocoon, so I was trying to kick my bedding clear,” John remembered years later. “I fought my way out of bed and ran around, waking everybody up. There were four of us in the cabin, and I woke my brother up and the boys in the other bunks.”

Alarm bells and chaos continued as the boys made their way out into the corridors and up onto the deck. Only then did John realize, despite knowing the correct procedures, that he’d forgotten his life jacket. 

So I said to Bobby, ‘I must go and get my life jacket,’ and off I went like a rocket. Fortunately, Bobby very sensibly grabbed hold of me and kept me close. He restrained me forcibly from going down there and getting lost again,” John said. “Instead, he gave me another life jacket. Now, whether he gave me his own life jacket in place of the one that I left behind, I do not know, and I shall never know. But he knew the drills, and it was drilled into us every time, to bring your life jacket and to put it on. So he put a lifejacket on me.”

After a horrendous ordeal wherein the boys’ lifeboat mislaunched, plunging them into the sea, they had to climb rope ladders back onto the ship. Their lifeboat was pulled up and loaded a second time. All of this was taking place during a vicious storm, with the crew and passengers scrambling for their lives, many screaming and dropping into the freezing waters of the North Atlantic. In the pandemonium, John lost track of Bobby.

Some 20 hours later, the HMS Hurricane rescued those remaining alive. Once names were collected, little John knew for sure his brother was not among the survivors, though his little heart was too young to process the truth. He returned home to his parents, the only survivor of the nine children from Southall, Middlesex, who’d been aboard. In a time when it was believed that not talking about such trauma was the healthiest directive, only in later years, when the survivors held reunions, did John allow himself to think or speak about the tragedy.

“Bobby gave a great gift to me,” he said in 2005, “and I shall forever be grateful. Because of that life jacket, he has given me 65 years of life that he didn’t have. So I’m grateful.”

Hope you can make it!