Psalm 138

Have you ever felt it? That moment when it seems like nothing else in the world matters except God, and at that moment, you would go anywhere and do anything—no matter the cost—if He called you to it? What happens to those moments? They come suddenly and go just as quickly, as the world and all its glittering promises come flooding back in.

If you’ll allow me, let me just preach at you today.

Something changed in me when my dad was sick with ALS. At first, I was going to say something changed in me when he died, but I immediately knew that was wrong—I had already changed before he breathed his last.

What changed in me? I guess you could say his illness pulled back the little fantasy curtain we all wear over our eyes—you know, the one that blinds us to the reality of things so that we think we’re going to go on living here forever with the power to avoid tragedy and suffering—and presented me with reality. We have control over… not very much. I don’t have it in me to make my heart beat its next beat. I don’t have it in me to make my lungs take their next breath.

There are no guarantees in this world. You don’t know if you’ll be at home tonight eating dinner with your family. You don’t know if you’ll wake up tomorrow morning. You don’t know if you’ll have a job next week. You don’t know that your house won’t get swept away by a tornado today.

There are no guarantees in this world. Everything is perishable, and I do mean everything. People, possessions, power. Your father, your mother, your spouse, your child… you. It’s all perishable. It can all be gone in the blink of an eye—and there’s nothing you or I can do about it. We are ultimately powerless. That’s the reality of living in this world.

Something changed in me when I realized I was powerless to do anything except watch my beloved father gradually lose all control of his muscles and die. As I contemplated that reality, I realized:

1. I had no power to alter the course my father was on.

2. On the other hand, God had absolute power to alter the course my father was on through healing.

3. I could trust God to do what was best, because I know that He always does the right thing.

Realizing those three things did something wonderful for me—it freed me. Instead of spending one more second worried about whether God was going to heal my father or not, I spent precious time with my dad—caring for his needs, talking to him, writing a book with him, and rubbing his feet and legs. Gone was the burden of having to figure out what to do about his illness, because I realized that I couldn’t do anything about it. It was already being taken care of.

What does this have to do with today’s psalm? “When I called, you answered me; you greatly emboldened me.” (vs 3) Since the “reality check” of my father’s illness and death, I feel I have been greatly emboldened, especially in ministry. You know what, life’s too short. It’s too short to get caught up in worrying about what people will think of you, what people will do to you, what people will say about you, what people would rather you do. The only thing that matters is that you do what God wants you to do.

Do you remember how I said that there were no guarantees in this world? That’s true. There is only one guarantee—and it is in a Kingdom that is not of this world. The only, the only, the only thing that is permanent is God. Nobody can take you out of His hands. Nobody can separate you from Him. If you give up all that is perishable in order to hold on to the one thing that is permanent, you’ll end up with everything. If you give up the one thing that is permanent in order to grasp at the things that are only perishable, you’ll end up with nothing.

God wants to make you bold. So just for today, stay focused on what is permanent. Leave everything that is perishable—yes, even those you love, even your own life!—in the capable hands of God. Stop worrying and start living. Determine once again that you will let nothing—not your friends, not your family, not your paycheck—keep you from being bold for the Lord.

Today may be all you have before you close your eyes for a season. So put your head up, focus your eyes on the prize, tune out the cacophony of the world, ahd run.