Prov 17:22

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine... - Proverbs 17:22

Sunday, March 29, 2026

Sundays in Psalms: How to Drown Your Enemies

 

I will be glad and rejoice in you; I will sing the praises of your name, O Most High.  My enemies turn back; they stumble and perish before you.

—Psalm 9:2-3 NIV

 

Without fail, I leave church on Sundays feeling lighter than I felt walking in. Sometimes, it’s due to an uplifting sermon. Sometimes, it’s a conversation with a friend, their encouraging words, and a hug. Other times, it might be because someone took a moment to hear what’s on my heart and pray with me. Most often, it stems from lifting my heart in worship alongside other believers. All of those pull together to make attendance worthwhile, even though I could enjoy the live-streamed service from the comfort of my couch.

In Psalm 9, David goes back and forth from praising and worshipping God to declaring God’s judgment on his enemies—sometimes with brutal, violent language. It might seem like a strange way to arrange a song. I think the modern-day psalmists understood when they wrote the contemporary lyrics stating that “praise is the water my enemies drown in.”*

I can feel weighed down by the enemies of discouragement, guilt, or anxiety—whether stemming from events in the world around me or whatever’s happening in my own heart and body. But when I begin to praise God, my attention is focused on the only One who can defeat all those enemies. Praise and fear cannot co-exist. Praise and bitterness cannot co-exist. Praise and envy cannot co-exist. Worship becomes a God-given weapon we can use to defeat every foe, even—or maybe especially—the ones no one sees. 

Action Step: Next time you’re feeling defeated, pull up some worship music and sing along with all your heart, despite your feelings. See if your enemies don’t flee.

 

*From Praise by Elevation Worship, written by Steven Furtick, Chandler Moore, Brandon Lake, Pat Barrett, Cody Carnes, and Chris Brown.

Sunday, March 22, 2026

Sundays in the Psalms: What's under your feet?

 You made them rulers over the works of your hands; You put everything under their feet: all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild, the birds in the sky,    and the fish in the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.

—Psalm 8:6-8 NIV

 


The eighth psalm normally evokes visions of glorious starry skies or sunrises. Images of beautiful wild animals roaming free. Majestic horses galloping along a shore or an eagle soaring high. Playful kittens with a ball of yarn or lambs frolicking in the sunshine. These words and the pictures they inspire remind us that God has placed us humans in a significant position between all this and His angels, giving us a certain measure of authority over His other creatures. These words also serve to point us to God’s majesty displayed in creation, as they should.

I was surprised, though, to see an entirely different vision in my mind’s eye as I read these words recently. Instead of beauty, countless piles of garbage filled my periphery from horizon to horizon at a landfill site. Trash floating in the ocean, killing sea life and destroying the beauty God created. Smokestacks releasing toxic fumes into the air we need to breathe. When these visions are superimposed over the words of this passage, we’re reminded of how woefully we’ve taken care of what God entrusted to us. No other creature in the entire kingdom could or would do what mankind has so carelessly managed to accomplish. The stark contrast helped me see anew our incredible need for a savior, both personally and collectively.

Questions for Reflection: Am I doing all I can to reduce the amount of garbage I produce? Do I take my God-given responsibility of caring for the earth seriously?

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Sundays in the Psalms: The Kids are Watching


PSALM 7

Whoever digs a hole and scoops it out
    falls into the pit they have made.
The trouble they cause recoils on them;
    their violence comes down on their own heads.

—Psalm 7:15-16 NIV

While visiting her parents for the holidays, Kim was driving around her hometown with her mother in the front seat and her two children in the back. Frustration grew as her mom played the side-seat driver, sucking in air between her teeth when she thought Kim was about to pull out in front of an oncoming vehicle. 

In reality, Kim had grown competent at driving in a big city, where a single hesitation often meant a long, unnecessary wait. Resentment began to simmer. When her mother asked her to make a quick stop at a friend’s house to drop something off, Kim pulled in front of the house on the left side of a two-way street.

“You can’t park like this.”

Her mother’s admonishment was the last straw.

“Mom. I don’t care!”

Her mother jumped out of the car to drop the item into her friend’s mailbox, declaring that she wouldn’t pay the fine if Kim got a ticket.

No ticket was forthcoming, but within twenty-four hours, both of Kim’s children—at separate times—repeated the words she’d thrown at her own mother, right down to the exact hand gestures: “Mom, I don’t care!”

Fortunately, Kim had the self-awareness required to see herself reflected in her children’s words. If they weren’t allowed to speak to their mother that way, why was she? Her mother received—and offered—an apology the following day, and lessons were learned by all.

Questions for Reflection: How quick am I to recognize when I’ve fallen into a pit of my own digging? How quick am I to be a "side-seat driver?"

Sunday, March 1, 2026

Sunday Psalms: Feeling Peckish?

 

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;
    heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.
My soul is in deep anguish

—Psalm 6:2-3a NIV

 

In the margin of my Bible beside Psalm 6:2-3 is a note. It simply says “June 22, 2012.” Even those nearest me could not guess what was going on that day. But whenever I see it, I know. Having been diagnosed the prior year with a chronic lung condition, I had sought a Naturopathic Doctor to help me get healthier. After working with me several weeks, she put me on a three-day water fast. The day before the fast, I was to eat nothing but fresh fruit and vegetables. Then, nothing but water for three days. She gave me other rules, too. Lots of rest, reading, and reflection. No driving. Don’t stay alone.



The first day, I felt hungry. The second day, I felt hungry and weak. By Day Three, I was convinced I had coincidentally contracted the flu. Every muscle in my body ached, my head pounded, and I couldn’t always keep down the water. I couldn’t sleep. Later, I learned these symptoms can be a normal part of the process when your body rids itself of toxins. They disappeared once I began to eat, and for the next week, food had never tasted so delicious. The experience was humbling in a way I had not predicted. I realized how needy I am for that daily bread I take so for granted. I came away with a much deeper compassion for those who must fight for every morsel of food, throughout their lives.

Question for Reflection: What is the longest fast I have done and how did it change me?