Longing for Home in a World of Trials

As Covid began to spread around the globe, I read a lot of articles and posts from friends quoting Psalm 91, particularly verse 10: “No evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent.” I understand how this verse could help those who feel afraid, especially during a pandemic. The word ‘plague’ describes Covid well. However, the verse that comforted me the most during those first few months of Covid and still comforts me today is Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Our days fly away from this earth like migrating birds. We might visit some different places along the journey; make a stop here and there to refuel and congregate with other birds. We know for certain we will reach our destination someday. We long for home and comfort and familiar faces, but everything about the life of a migrating bird is transient. Sometimes a storm knocks us into unfamiliar territory and we must navigate the unknown without the support of our flock. At other times, we experience smooth flying, blue skies, and abundant blessings. No matter where we travel, we know we will eventually return from whence we came. God numbers our days.

Somehow when I know I’ll have extra time to complete a task, I take much longer to complete that task. I think I have all the time in the world, and so I wait and wait and wait. Suddenly, as if without warning, the deadline springs up right in front of me. I hurry and scurry to complete the task on time. Would I have done better work if I had not waited until the very last minute? Of course! Wisdom tells me this is so. Lord, give us a heart of wisdom.

We know that our days will come to an end. The hours may seem long, the years may seem short, and the days may creep along, but eventually we all come to the end of our lives. Praise the Lord that we do not know the day or the hour! We would never be able to earnestly pray with the psalmist, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

What happens when we reach the end of our days?

The psalmist explains like this: “Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil.” [1] Have you ever read The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien? In the first three chapters, Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit who above all else values comfort, regular meals, and soft beds, experiences some major life changes. First, an unexpected visitor arrives–Gandalf. Then, an entire group of unexpected visitors arrive–dwarves! They turn Bilbo’s home and sense of self upside-down and suddenly Bilbo finds himself on the road to have an adventure. For the first time in his life, Bilbo experiences life outside of his comfortable hobbit hole. The rain pours down on him and his companions. He sleeps on a rock in wet clothes. He watches as one-by-one, his friends get sacks pulled over their heads by ugly trolls. They barely escape with their lives, and only because of Gandalf’s clever voices. But after all that, they come to the Last Homely House and they rest.

I like to imagine Bilbo sitting in the soft grass by the fireside, listening to the elves sing and tell stories, gazing at the stars winking in the dark night sky, and soaking in every merry and magical moment. That’s what I would do, too.

We share Bilbo’s experience of rain-soaked days followed by lovely fireside chats. Sometimes we find ourselves stuck in a boggy place. We feel hopelessly trapped. We try to scramble out, but only manage to slip further into the muck. Eventually we manage to find a few solid footholds. We climb and we struggle, we struggle and we climb, and after hours of belabored plodding we reach the bank. Suddenly we spy those green pastures and quiet streams spread out before us like a feast. Joy runs through our very soul and we can see God smiling on us again. We realize He never left, even in the depths of the pit.

In a much grander sense, life is just one big trial until we reach eternity. The whole world groans and we are not exempt from the pain. Suffering and heartache cling to us like stubborn cobwebs in an old house. We try to swat them away, but there they are and there they stay. This groaning world points us to our need for a savior, and our need for a savior points us to the Savior who came to redeem us from all the hopelessness we carry. This isn’t a balance of good and bad–this is the good coming to save us from the bad. After all of our years of sighing, we too arrive at the Last Homely House.

We sit in the soft grass and gaze at the marvelous Light, the only light we need to light the earth and the sky. We sing His praises and tell stories about His mighty deeds. We soak in every beautiful moment, and still we don’t tire of the goodness we see brilliantly displayed in shimmering sheets around us. “Further up and further in,” as C.S. Lewis aptly explains. After all the rainstorms, trials, and adventures of this life, we rest.

Lord, teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Guide us to study our past as well as our future. Impress upon our souls that all is not lost. Soon you will redeem our days, and soon you will welcome us home to rest forever in your beautiful, perfect, endless kingdom.

[1] Psalm 90:15

Photo: Nick Fewings on Unsplash