Sunday, August 9, 2009

Joel 3

The sun and moon will be darkened,
and the stars no longer shine.
The LORD will roar from Zion

and thunder from Jerusalem;
the earth and the sky will tremble.
But the LORD will be a refuge for his people,
a stronghold for the people of Israel.

Joel, like many of the other prophets is kind of trippy. It was a wildly different time and an almost unimaginable different situation. But still, like today, God is in charge. He came to the rescue of His faithless people again. Just like He has and will for us. I want to feel Him as my refuge. A stronghold. Here in OK you can imagine those storm shelters that would probably hold up through an A-bomb.

But that is our God. Our Abba. Our faithful Father. My Jesus. The night before last I went on a short walk alone. In the east, the sky was clear and the moon was full. It was so serene and beautiful. But to the north, the skies were full of huge clouds with lightning and thunder rolling through them almost constantly. And I saw God in them both. The peace and stillness and clarity of the east and the wild and noise and raw power to the north.

I love Him like that. Unpredictable and yet never-changing. It reminds me of a hymn I sang in chapel as a child. I started typing the first line but decided to include the whole thing in case you've never heard it. Evidently, Martin Luther met this same mighty God centuries ago.

A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;
our helper he amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
his craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate,
on earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing,
were not the right man on our side, the man of God's own choosing.
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is he;
Lord Sabaoth, his name, from age to age the same,
and he must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
we will not fear, for God hath willed his truth to triumph through us.
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure;
one little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
the Spirit and the gifts are ours, through him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
the body they may kill; God's truth abideth still;
his kingdom is forever.

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