Night

"When it's dark and night takes over, all the forest creatures come out.

The young lions roar for their prey, clamoring to God for their supper.

When the sun comes up, they vanish, lazily stretched out in their dens.

Meanwhile, men and women go out to work, busy at their jobs until evening.

What a wildly wonderful world, GOD!

You made it all, with Wisdom at your side, made earth overflow with your wonderful creations."

Psalm 104:20-24, as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson in The Message

Last night as we sat together in our living room, Holly and I heard the almost forgotten sound of falling rain. As it drummed away on the metallic casing of the a.c. unit in our backyard, we listened to the noise and asked each other, "what is that?"

Rain. Remember rain? The liquid stuff that falls out of the sky and keeps us all alive. It's hard to believe that in a summer that saw Douglasville get 14 inches of rain in one 48 hour period, it's now been dry enough for long enough that the green things of our world have actually started turning brown.

Fall is on its way, but the baby-rooted sod in our front yard hasn't lost its color because of oncoming cold. It has simply dried out, and this grass-owner has grown too busy and stingy to keep turning on the sprinklers. New Orleans is underwater, but my grass has dehydrated in Douglasville. Who can figure it out?

Early this morning, when I opened our back door so that our groggy dog could run free into the grass and complete her "to do" list for the day, I swear the world looked greener. Even in my artificially-planted, mostly-treeless piece of suburban frontier, the tint had been adjusted from dingy green-brown to an almost-normal green, overnight. Newly energized chlorophyll was doing its thing, and God's ancient promise of life was fulfilled again, for one more day. God is to creation what Oil of Olay promises to be to "mature" skin, a form of nightly renewal.

In his book, God is Closer Than You Think, and in the chapters that we're studying this week at Shepherd of the Hills, John Ortberg says:

"Actually, the first task of the day is to go to sleep...we think of a day beginning when the sun comes up or when the alarm clock goes off or when Starbucks opens. But the ancient rhythm of days is different. In the creation account, the order is always the same: 'And there was evening and there was morning -- the first day.' Each day in creation begins with evening. In Jewish life, the Sabbath begins not at sunup, but sundown. Eugene Peterson notes that in this way the biblical writers help us to remember: Everything doesn't depend on me. I go to sleep, God goes to work. It's his day. The world keeps spinning, tides ebb and flow, lives begin and end even though I am not there to superintend any of it. God is present when I sleep" (Ortberg 72-73).

You know, he's got a point. From 11:00 pm last night until about 6:30 this morning, I slept. Like a baby. And you know, the world went right on without me. I was not "there to superintend any of it." No doubt, if I'd stayed up and worried hard enough, I could have changed all the bad things that happened, right? I could claim credit for all the good things that happened, too, I'm sure. Instead, I slept --- and the grass still got greener.

Perspective is a wonderful thing. It's not always the thing we want, but I find that it's almost always the thing that we often need most in our lives. Psalm 104 is a wonderful piece of spiritual perspective. There are moments when I need to understand my relative size in this world. There are times when I need to remember that there is more than what's right in front of me. All of us need to make sure that from time to time we open our doors and walk outside, just to have a look around.

We should never let a year pass without standing beside the vastness of the ocean, or gazing up from the foot of an awesome mountain. The next time that you fly into Atlanta, especially if your flight home arrives after dark, make sure you get a window seat. Savor the moment when you see the city's various skylines unfold before you, into the distance. Ponder the sheer magnitude of the city lights that spread as far as you can see in all directions.

Sometimes we resist such experiences because they make us question our own sense of validity and purpose. The undeniable power of an ocean that could so easily swallow and destroy us makes the fragile nature of our weak, tiny bodies all too readily apparent. The sight of a teeming city makes us wonder how the single story of our own life could matter when it's simply one among millions.

And yet, it's this very kind of perspective, brought by such moments of uncomfortable knowledge that makes our faith real, strong and useful.

In the depths of our hearts, we must acknowledge that God is in control and we are not. We must accept the reality of our dependence on God, even when it means giving up our finely crafted self-deceptions.

Many nights came and went in this world before I was ever on the scene. Many more will come and go without me. God will renew and sustain and keep his promises. Like me, God seems to have a thing for lawns, and he gives them what they need. And also like me, God loves his children a whole lot more than his yard. He promises to renew and sustain us, too, if we'll let him.

When it's "dark and night takes over," God is in control. It's gotten dark nearly 40,000 times since my great-grandfather was born 107 years ago. Nearly 8,000 have passed since his death. My youngest son has seen the sunset only 802 times. Hopefully, I've got a good 20 or 30 thousand sunsets left myself (come on, medical technology!).

But no matter how many remain, it's good to know that God is in charge of them all. The tides will keep up their work of ebb and flow, the world will rotate, grass will grow, rain will fall, and none of it will depend on me. A little at a time, I'm learning that lesson, and it's a powerful place of peace.

May God grant us evenings and mornings filled with activity, rest, love and perspective. What a wildly wonderful world.

I'll see you this Sunday,
Adam

LIFE AT SOTH:
Many thanks are owed to John Sheffield for our awesome new newsletter format. Thanks to Kelly Smith for technical assistance, and to Jim Canup for posting on our website. You'll get a hard copy in the next few days (if you're on our mailing list), but if you want to preview now, you can download the .pdf file at www.sothumc.net

Friday night, we'll have our third installment of "Generation on Fire." This is such a great event --- with live music, food and coffee, and lots of great conversation. It is an awesome time and the perfect thing to invite a SOTH first-timer to attend.

This evening at 7pm, we'll continue our book study, God is Closer Than You Think. Over 60 adults were in attendance last week, which is incredible. If you haven't been and will need childcare tonight, please give us a call and let us know at 770-920-1551.

SOTH has invited the community to worship through our "God Is Closer" mailer that we sent last week. A great follow-up might be a personal invitation from you to your friends and neighbors.