Context (It Is Well)

Context.

I'm baffled by the way it can change everything.  We've taken on the challenge, in the past few years, of trying to help our little girls understand this phenomenon.  It's always an interesting task in the moment, to say the least.  Like the time one of them wanted to wear her bathing suit to the grocery store.  In the peak of winter.  Or when one of them spilled water on her clothes at a church meeting and immediately decided to take the wet articles off.  All of them.  And screamed at the top of her lungs when I tried to get her to put them back on.

It's even more intriguing to me, though, that the same words can have such different meanings from one context to another.  You know--when you're in a conversation with someone and another person walks in half-way through.  The second person missed the beginning, so what you're saying now sounds totally inappropriate.  

And then, there's the Bible.  The Word of God, coming to life on each page.  In high school, at a week-long cheerleading camp, I remember sitting in the hallway before bed, reading my Bible, when my coach asked me about it.    "Haven't you read it enough times?" She inquired with a smile.  I replied, "It's the same words, but God can say something completely different to me every time I read them.  I'll never get enough."  

There are certain verses that I've read hundreds of times, but God keeps unveiling more about Himself as the context of my life changes.  Take Isaiah 40:29-31, for example:  "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

During the years I spent cheering, Isaiah 40 inspired me to hold my stunt position in the air and to throw my tumbling passes.  When I had newborn babies and rarely slept, God used it to keep me going through the long nights.  When I lost my ability to walk in October, God used these same words to give me fresh hope and strength like I never knew I could have, or would even need to have.

Isaiah 40: Hope to endure the months when I couldn't snuggle with my kids, like I finally get to again.

Isaiah 40: Strength to make it through all of the weeks of weakness to days like yesterday, when, after three days on my newest CRPS treatment, I got to do this!

The same words.  The same truth.  Different contexts.  Different application.

The Psalms are a great place to see the same words being able to apply unchanging truth in unique ways to different people in their own individual contexts.

David wrote Psalm 57 when he was hiding in a cave, being hotly pursued by his enemy, Saul.  This song is David's cry for God to see him in his distress and have mercy on him.  It is a declaration of the Sovereignty and fulfilled purposes of God, of His unending love and faithfulness.  It is a song of praise in the midst of a storm.

I love the way that David alternates between thoughts about the dreadful situation he's in and thoughts about how loving and faithful God is.  He's completely honest about his trial--he doesn't pretend that it's not happening or make light of the very real danger that he is in.  In the very next breath, he's worshipping God.

David's confidence in God is beautiful.  We can have the same kind of confidence in the very same God, who is still our refuge today.  And maybe we're not on the run from a king who is trying to kill us, but we can pray the very same Psalm in whatever season of life we are running through.  The same God who inspired the words thousands of years ago speaks the same truth into us right where we are now.

The same truth.  Different context.

Because the Psalms express so much emotion and they have a particular way of resonating with whatever I'm going through, I love to pray through them as they are written and then let my present situation sink into them.  So, my paraphrased-for-my-present-situation Psalm 57 might end up sounding something like this:

God, I need Your mercy.  You are my safe place.  
I will hide in You until the waves that are crashing over me subside.  
I cry out to You, God.  You know all of the details of what I'm going through; 
You have a purpose for me in this and You will fulfill it--none of this is in vain.  
You send me help from Heaven; You are for me, not against me.  
You send me Your love and Your faithfulness.  
The enemy that rages against me wants to destroy me.  
Be lifted high, God.  You are Lord over everything; let the whole world see it.  
My enemy is after me, hunting me down; I know that they won't win.
I trust in You, I rest in You; I will worship you from the depths of my soul.  
I will praise You from the rooftops; I will join with Your people from far and wide to praise You.  Your love reaches to the heavens; Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.  
Be lifted High, God--above the heavens.  Let Your glory fill the whole earth.

So, even when a chronic pain disorder is running me down, God is my strength.  Even if it feels like all of the odds are against me, God is on my side, and He is good.  No matter what the context, His words are true.  And because of His love and faithfulness, no matter what the context, I can say, "It is well."  No matter what the context, I will praise Him.

It is well:  I walked all day on Friday.  And most of yesterday.

It is well:  And I was still on my feet at the end of today!

"Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You.  Through it all, through it all, it is well," (It Is Well, Kristene DiMarco & Bethel Music).

"But as for me, I will always have hope;  I will praise You more and more.  My mouth will tell of Your righteousness, of Your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure," (Psalm 71:14-15).