Psalms and the Minor Prophets . . . and on to Psalm 1

I keep finding songs as I go through the minor prophets and the Psalms.  No, I'm not writing them, I'm remembering them.

Songs tell the story of my life.
And please forgive me if I reference a few songs as I meander through the rest of the Old Testament.  In my own time and manner.

Whenever I read Psalm 1, I think of a song we used to sing back in the 70s.  I don't think I liked the song much back in the 70s, honestly, and I like it even less in the 21st century.  (Sadly many of the 70s worship choruses, especially songs we sang in youth group, were a lot like this.)

And if you're wondering where the link between this song and that chorus, it's this:  Blessed in this context means happy.  Way happy.  Blessedly happy.

The song makes happy sound trite.  (At this point, if you haven't listened to the song, you might want to click on the link and find out what I'm talking about.)

The thing is, sometimes I'm just not "happy."  Life is difficult sometimes.  I didn't feel 'blessed" or "happy" when I found out my job was ending.  I felt panicked and abandoned by God.  And my mom didn't feel blessed when she got a phone call on November 11, 2007, telling her my dad had a massive heart attack and she should get to the hospital as soon as possible.  I know of three families who are losing their homes.  I doubt if they feel blessed right now.  And the list of unhappiness goes on and on.

And yet, God is our Lord.  Either he is faithful, or he is not.  Either he is loving, or he is not.

Whether our concerns are huge, life-changing events, or they are day-to-day things that completely wear us out, we belong to the Lord.

And he loves it when we walk close to him, ignoring voices that pull us away from him, and when we dig into his word.

We are like trees planted by streams of water.  Our roots go deep, and we take in refreshing water all the time.  Automatically.  We yield fruit in season.

Obviously, we don't yield fruit out of season.  And even the most fruitful trees don't produce visible fruit all year long.  (That might not be true of some trees in some places.  But go with me.  I am not a horticulturist.)

The takeaway here is that sometimes life is hard, but when we stay close to the source of life, delighting in Him even when it seems like nothing will ever change, he watches over us.

God is our hope when life seems hopeless.
He is our song when the notes seem dissonant.
He is our blessing.  He is our happiness.