For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. (Psalm 1:6)
It’s a promise.
It’s a warning.
Take it as such.
I’m not going to clutter this up with commentary…just chew on it as you head into your Friday.
Happy weekend, Beloved.
Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, or sinners in the assembly of the righteous. (Psalm 1:4-5)
Sometimes I forget.
Sometimes I look at the nonbelievers around me, and I envy their “freedom.”
Sometimes, Beloved, I’m a little short-sighted.
I forget their destiny. I forget that, without Christ, they are like chaff that the wind blows away. Ever wonder why chaff blows away, while the wheat (that would be you) remains? It’s because chaff has no substance, no weight. There is nothing solid to it, nothing to keep it from drifting away on the breeze.
So it does.
What I sometimes confuse for freedom is the aimless drifting of an empty soul.
One day they, like we, will stand before the Father. They will not be clothed in the righteousness of Christ—they will be naked in their sin. They will not stand firm in the armor of God—they will be crushed under the weight of their own earned guilt. They will not rejoice in the fellowship of the saints—they will be ever, forever alone.
Sometimes I forget. But when I remember, I praise God for his grace, and I remind myself never to envy the lost, but ever to pity them, to pray for them, to reason and wrestle and reach for them.
Join me, Beloved. And Happy Thursday.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. (Psalm 1:3)
OK, I really appreciate the tree image. On a day like today, when I’m running crazy, the idea of solid, deep stillness is delicious. On a day like today, when so little that I do seems to be of real value, the thought of being useful, of fulfilling my purpose, is profoundly satisfying. On a day like today, when my back aches and the gray is spreading, the hope of not withering invigorates me.
But I gotta tell you, Beloved–I struggle with the rest of the verse. I’m trying to be a Psalm 1 kinda guy, but I can’t honestly say that whatever I do prospers. Maybe I’m not Psalm 1ish enough. Maybe I sit in the seat of mockers more often than I like to admit. Maybe my meditation isn’t up to snuff.
Maybe.
Maybe I don’t have a good enough grip on what it means to “prosper.” Maybe, just maybe, God is prospering me in ways I can’t see, can’t even imagine.
I like that “Maybe” better.
For all that I don’t know—which is plenty—there is one thing I do know.
I wanna be a tree.
But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. (Psalm 1:2).
Do you delight in God’s word?
No guilt here—it’s an honest question.
Actually, I ask the same question of myself. I mean, I read his word, I study his word, on occasion I even commit his word to memory…but do I delight in it? Do I meditate on it?
Do I even really know what that looks like?
I know I’d like to.
I know that biblical meditation is different from what they’ll teach you at yoga class—and what are you doing at yoga class, anyway? They’ll teach you to empty your mind, and allow the void to be filled by narcissism and demons. OK, they probably won’t say it that way, but that’s what it amounts to. Biblical meditation is about filling your mind with Scripture, sort of letting a particular verse roll around in your head. You pray that God would illuminate the passage for you, and help you to see what he wants you to see in it.
Let’s experiment today. Pick a passage of Scripture—it could be this passage, or yesterday’s, or just your favorite verse—and ask God to help you meditate on it. Ask him to help you delight in it. Let it roll around your head today, and see what he has to show you.
C’mon, trust me, Beloved—it’ll be fun.
Blessed is the man who does not walk in the council of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of mockers. (Psalm 1:1)
Who do you listen to? Not on Sunday, but on Monday, Tuesday, and the rest.
I like to listen to talk radio. I enjoy the news analysis and commentary, but I have to keep one thing in mind—these are not Christian shows. The hosts are not coming from a Christian perspective. Even though we may agree on many issues, we are fundamentally at odds.
Again I ask: who do you listen to? Are you following the teaching of the Word, or of the world? Are you seeking to imitate Jesus, or celebrities? Are you fellowshipping with Godly believers, or the lost?
The people who surround you, the communion you immerse yourself in, will have a profound impact upon your thought life. So step back today and take a look at who that is. If you need to make some changes, do so.
Mondays are a great time for fresh starts.
So get started, Beloved.
Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, or sinners in the assembly of the righteous. (Psalm 1:4-5)
Sometimes I forget.
Sometimes I look at the nonbelievers around me, and I envy their “freedom.”
Sometimes I’m a little short-sighted.
I forget their destiny. I forget that, without Christ, they are like chaff that the wind blows away. Ever wonder why chaff blows away, while the wheat (that would be you) remains? It’s because chaff has no substance, no weight. There is nothing solid to it, nothing to keep it from drifting away on the breeze.
So it does.
What I sometimes confuse for freedom is the aimless drifting of an empty soul.
One day they, like we, will stand before the Father. They will not be clothed in the righteousness of Christ—they will be naked in their sin. They will not stand firm in the armor of God—they will be crushed under the weight of their own earned guilt. They will not rejoice in the fellowship of the saints—they will be ever, forever alone.
Sometimes I forget. But when I remember, I praise God for his grace, and I remember never to envy the lost, but ever to pity them, to pray for them, to reason and wrestle and reach for them.
I’m telling you—I’d rather be a tree.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. (Psalm 1:3)
OK, I really appreciate the tree image. On a day like today, when I’m running crazy, the idea of solid, deep stillness is delicious. On a day like today, when so little that I do seems to be of real value, the thought of being useful, of fulfilling my purpose, is profoundly satisfying. On a day like today, when my back aches and the gray is spreading, the hope of not withering invigorates me.
I’ll admit, I struggle with the rest of the verse. I’m trying to be a Psalm 1 kinda guy, but I can’t honestly say that whatever I do prospers. Maybe I’m not Psalm 1ish enough. Maybe I sit in the seat of mockers more often than I like to admit. Maybe my meditation isn’t up to snuff.
Maybe.
Maybe I don’t have a good enough grip on what it means to “prosper.” Maybe God is prospering me in ways I can’t see, can’t even imagine.
I like that “Maybe” better.
For all that I don’t know—which is plenty—there is one thing I do know.
I wanna be a tree.
But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. (Psalm 1:2).
Do you delight in God’s word?
No guilt here—it’s an honest question.
Actually, I ask the same question of myself. I mean, I read his word, I study his word, on occasion I even commit his word to memory…but do I delight in it? Do I meditate on it?
Do I even really know what that looks like?
I know I’d like to.
I know that biblical meditation is different from what they’ll teach you at yoga class—and what are you doing at yoga class, anyway? They’ll teach you to empty your mind, and allow the void to be filled by narcissism and demons. OK, they probably won’t say it that way, but that’s what it amounts to. Biblical meditation is about filling your mind with Scripture, sort of letting a particular verse roll around in your head. You pray that God would illuminate the passage for you, and help you to see what he wants you to see in it.
Let’s experiment today. Pick a passage of Scripture—it could be this passage, or yesterday’s, or just your favorite verse—and ask God to help you meditate on it. Ask him to help you delight in it. Let it roll around your head today, and see what he has to show you. Then come back and share the experience with us.
C’mon, trust me—it’ll be fun.