As if every third day or so the angels trade sides for an hour and evil somehow becomes omnipotent. Really?
But I guess you realize it requires more than the simple existence of Omnipotent God to keep me from falling... Well, herein lies that secret too. In the first four words of the chapter. The spark that heralds a storm of Divinity.--
"I will love Thee..."
I Will. My little part to play. So simple, so absolutely necessary. Whole sermon right here...
Love. Because love will move my heart, my head, and my hands. The way work won't...
Thee. Because love is actually inevitable. You were wired for it. It's not if, it's who. And only this Master has life to give away...
In other words, I'm Yours. Head, heart, and whole.
And then do you see what happens?
Hear a few verses later when David bleeds out this distress of sorrows and death--
The servant cries, and the whole earth reels in the thunder from his chariot wheels.
Hills and rills run out of the way, because He is wroth.
Breath of life and creative Word come out of mouth and nose as smoke and fire.
His chariot is alive. An angel with wind for his wings.
He arrives at His war room --a secret pavilion carved out of darkness-- in the midst of the earthquake.
Walks in under escort of raining fire and ice.
He stands in the midst of His council of war, utters words that cut atmospheres. More thunder...
And His speech gets the whole host moving.
Next thing you know, "his arrows," the very best of His fighting force, they shoot out from the place, wreak havoc on the enemy.
Seemingly out of nowhere.
And when the scattering seems complete, He sends lightnings after them.
Then all at once the agenda, the fortifications, the vulnerabilities of the enemy are laid wide open.
And He calmly walks in and picks up His servant, and carries him out.
"With the merciful thou wilt shew thyself merciful;
with the upright man thou wilt shew thyself upright;
with the pure thou wilt shew thyself pure;
and with the froward thou wilt shew thyself froward." Ps. 18:25, 26
I'm not making it up. That's what the Book says.
I have no tolerance for the idea that defeat must be regarded as at least occasionally inevitable. Absolutely none.
Perhaps I must be regarded as at least occasionally (or much more often) failing to call for help, or surrendering my arms voluntarily...
(to be continued...)