Because I just bought a car.
Though used, it’s clean and shiny, but I might as well drag a nail down the side because sooner or later it will get dinged, dented, or demolished. If I don’t do it myself, I’ve got kids who drive.
Recently a friend from college informed me he’s now completely bald. And my own once quarter-sized bald spot is now a medium-sized divot. Am I headed for a bad combover? Spurgeon said that in 100 years we’ll all be bald.
One thing the financial crisis is revealing, as investments and jobs go up in smoke, is that this world is about as permanent as the crema on your espresso.
Moses wrote in Psalm 90, “Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations” (v1).
Moses and the Israelites zig-zagged around the desert for 40 years, longing to put down roots in the promised land. Living in tents is ok for about 3 days when your kids are little, but after oh, 35 years or so, it gets old. You get tired of checking your Chuck Taylors for scorpions every morning, sweeping the sand out of the tent, and brewing your coffee over a fire pit.
Moses saw a whole generation perish without seeing the promised land, because of their grumbling unbelief. Moses locked himself out too, when he whacked a rock instead of ordering it to yield water as God had commanded him.
Moses realized that ultimately GOD was Israel’s dwelling place, not this world.
This fading world is not our true home. We’re just camping here. Aliens, renters. GOD is our permanent residence, as D.A. Carson says. Only God is everlasting and unchanging. Our eyes will dim and our hair will thin, but Jesus remains the same. He alone is our security, our stability, our dwelling place.
Isn’t it wonderful how the gospel locates our joy in the one who said “I will never leave you nor forsake you,” and not in this fragile, fleeting planet?
photo by bump4