Friday, December 13

Psalm 16

You Will Not Abandon My Soul

A Miktam of David.

16:1   Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
  I say to the LORD, “You are my Lord;
    I have no good apart from you.”
  As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
    in whom is all my delight.
  The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
    their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
    or take their names on my lips.
  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 is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
  Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
    my flesh also dwells secure.
10   For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
    or let your holy one see corruption.
11   You make known to me the path of life;
    in your presence there is fullness of joy;
    at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

(ESV)


Incarnate Joy

This summer I traveled to a youth camp, prepared for an exciting but daunting assignment—a full week of preaching the gospel to teenagers. The topic for the week was “new life in Christ.” I didn’t know that I would have to work just as hard that week to preach the gospel to myself.

An hour after I arrived at the camp, while getting settled into my cabin, my phone rang. I answered to unexpected and painful news—my Grandpa Wes had died that morning. This faithful, gentle man who was beloved by his family was now gone.

As I worked through the grief, I had to bare my soul to God—to honestly assess how anchored I myself was to the hope of life in Jesus that I was preparing to invite teenagers to consider. I thumbed the pages of my Bible, looking for words to hold on to. I stumbled upon Psalm 16 and found that its words captured the sentiment of my heart: “Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.” Yes, God, I need you to be a refuge for me right now. I read on, and saw the psalmist declare the goodness of God in contrast to all else: “You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.” Feeling so aware of how fleeting even the best things in life in this world are, these words resonated deeply.

The joy that Psalm 16 declares is one rooted in a hope that faces the realities of death and the grave head-on: “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” (vv. 9–10). There’s a totality to the joy the follower of God experiences— “my whole being rejoices” (v. 9), and “in your presence is fullness of joy” (v. 11). This joy comes from a knowledge of the nearness of the Lord. When fears and sorrows multiply, the truth that God is with us changes everything.

If the idea of joy at Christmas feels a little idealistic, sappy, or unattainable to those facing the hardships of life, I invite you to consider the sober-minded joy of Psalm 16. It’s a joy that can fill our whole being. Why? Because God hasn’t forgotten us—flesh and all. Rather than forget our fragile bodies, he enacted a salvation plan that began by taking on a body. Even for those whose bodies ache with memories of loss this season, the truth of the Incarnation can shine to our souls. We have the hope of a God who does not abandon us to the grave but promises resurrection life through our savior whose birth we celebrate this season.

David Engstrom

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