"For the LORD has chosen Zion; he has desired it for his dwelling place: 'This is my resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it. I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread. Her priests I will clothe with salvation. There I will make a horn to sprout for David; I have prepared a lamp for my anointed. His enemies I will clothe with shame, but on him his crown will shine.'"- by David, to be sung by pilgrims on the ascent to Jerusalem.
Zion doesn't deserve God. We don't. People make up cities and Zion rejected God. I am just like Zion.
A thick veil lays over my heart this morning. It always seems this way. Even yesterday as my pastor and I gaped at the span of the Gospel, my heart was lifted to praise but for a moment, and then the reality of my veil descended.
This is not the way I was made to live. And it is why I am seeking to meditate on God's word. Reality is what I am veiled from. Reality is what I forget every morning. Reality is so much more than I take it to be. And Reality is so much full of the other, the utter glorious Otherness of God.
I have no idea how blessed I am to be a part of this eternal city, the place where God is. I have no idea what a privilege it is, and how undeserved. In fact when struck with it fully, when I leave this body, when I'm "deader than a door-nail," I know the question will be "Why me?" It's the only legitimate question in light of God's election.
The trivialities of stuff, things to do, movies to watch and kids to get in their darn beds preoccupy my daily thoughts. There's little room left for God. Yet God is all there is. He breathes life into all of these things. And he gives me a heart for others, which frankly, I find pretty impossible.
Today I feel so privileged and blessed to exchange the "garments of shame" that I fully deserve and to be clothed with salvation. And for someone who is so-not-style-concsious, and who can best be described as living in a "style-coma," these garments are a pretty good thing.
And I can't wait to see my Lord's crown shine. May it shine in my heart today, burning the truth of his love, power, justice and grace for all of mankind deep into the torn fabric of my being. May the great weaver of history show me his loom woven for the nations, even as he weaves me back together.