eighteen inches

a beautiful inheritance.

This is my third or fourth time going through the psalms since I first started actually digging into the Word. I’ve lost count.

It was the second time, sometime last year, when I read Psalm 16. Reading it now I’m reminded of that time, because it was when things had started to change for me. I’d been reading my BIble for awhile. But I found myself stranded in Spokane, away from everything familiar, and had just severed a relationship because I knew it was “right.”

It was. I don’t doubt that.

dBut the question was, has always been, and always will be…

“Even if God is who he says he is, and all of this is real… is it worth it?”

Was it worth giving up a wonderful-terrible addiction? Is it worth fighting the battle against addiction residue every day? Was it worth cutting off a wonderful-terrible relationship… and was it worth the depression afterward?

Is it worth fighting doubt? Is it worth the hours of devotional time, spent sitting at His feet, when you could be doing something else? (Yes. I said it. Because if you don’t ever feel it now, then you’ve felt it at some point).

When it comes down to it, we all have had to or will have to give something up to be who we are as believers. Is it worth it?

That is the question I remember struggling with, when I read this psalm around a year ago. For a few weeks, the answer was that I didn’t know. I wrestled with the implications of “No.” I considered it. Perhaps I even believed it.

And then I read this psalm. Psalm 16.

“The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup:

You hold my lot.

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;

In the night also my heart instructs me.

I have set the Lord always before me;

Because he as at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;

My flesh also dwells secure.

For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,

Or let your holy one see corruption.

You make known to me the path of life;

In your presence there is fullness of joy;

At your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Two phrases struck me. “Chosen portion,” and “I have set the Lord always before me.”

Something changes when you realize that you are helpless against the decisions that you’ve made. Something changes when you understand that your decisions, independent of God who knows everything, always lead you astray.

There is a difference between being a believer, sometimes, and making God Lord of your life.

Is it worth it?

Pleasant places. Not be shaken. Glad heart. Whole being rejoicing. Dwelling secure. Fullness of joy. Pleasures forevermore.

A life not given over to the Lord’s plan is not one that can experience these things that David describes in Psalm 16. A mind that believes that it can make better decisions than the God of the Universe is not one that can experience the peace of knowing that Somebody Bigger has it all under control even when it does not.

So, is it? Is it worth it?

With God as “Lord of my life” not just “Lord”? Yes.

It has seemed that the pleasure of doing “the right thing” has always paled in comparison to the pleasure of the world.

Wrong. And it didn’t seem that way until I experienced them both and evaluated.

It has seemed as though the decisions I make to get what I want are always best.

Wrong. They’ve led to nothing but sorrow.

I have realized that my inheritance in God is something far better than any that I could choose for myself.

I have set the Lord always before me;

because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

mom was right.

My freshman year of college is drawing to a close, and all I can think is, “Wow, Mom, you were right.”

That day, a week after I’d already paid the nonrefundable deposit to Colorado State University, already gotten my housing assignment and signed up for a meal plan - that was when the really friendly girl called from Moody Spokane. I’d referred to it as the Secret Moody Bible Cult a few times, because nobody knew it existed (and still no one does). We’re Moody’s best-kept secret.

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hey, hey this fire, it’s burning, burning us up.

I’ve heard it said that the reason we love each other is because we see God’s image in each other. But it cannot be God’s image that has one person brutally cutting their heart’s ties with another’s and sprinting as fast as possible in the opposite direction—leaving a pair of bloody scissors and mangled heartstrings in the dust.

Lately I’ve found myself buried in the sorrows of my friends and overwhelmed with the resulting empathy pains. It’s as if everybody with broken hearts and severed relationships elected one specific week to come and present it to me (not that I’m complaining). It’s left me with a reminder of just how devastating relationships can be: they’re like bombs, don’t know when they’ll explode, but when they do the result is emotional shrapnel—cutting into everybody in the vicinity until they attempt to go about picking up the pieces, attempting to figure out which pieces belong to which person. I love listening and giving advice and encouraging, even when it hurts for me, too.

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