One King Dead, Another King Eternal
Stories
Contents
“One King Dead, Another King Eternal” by David O. Bales
“Living in the Spirit” by Peter Andrew Smith
“Glory Be!” by David O. Bales
One King Dead, Another King Eternal
by David O. Bales
Isaiah 6:1-8
Wherever Isaiah walked, people looked his way. Other than the king, he was Jerusalem’s best-known person. He was listened to and talked about — a priest, by birth among the only persons authorized to offer sacrifices in the temple. Also, as a prophet his scorching oracles often roiled Judah’s rich as well as his fellow priests. Later, he was designated to write the history of two kings. But one day his prophetic life started over.
Isaiah noted that it was the year King Uzziah died. Although the king was self-demoted and branded by his pride-driven sacrilege in the temple, with his son as regent he’d run his administration longer than Kings David or Solomon. For most people Uzziah was the only king they’d known. His death became the nation’s “now what?” moment. At his death uncertainty hung in Jerusalem’s air. Priests and Levites spoke of nothing else. A struggle over succession to the throne could bring civil war. The northern Hebrew kingdom showed that problem.
Everyone could see that in Uzziah’s reign the nation became more secure. Borders better protected. Grain exports increased. Larger herds and flocks grazed safely on Judah’s rocky hills. Above all, the temple in Jerusalem efficiently offered sacrifices every morning and evening to Yahweh-God. Yet, even with all that appeared stable, Jerusalem’s populous wondered what would happen now. A steady government depended on people — especially army commanders, elders, priests and the rich aristocracy.
Thus, Isaiah was extra-alert for a message from Yahweh. But no one, not the least he, expected to step into the temple and see Yahweh. He recorded it later, “I saw Yahweh sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.’ The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.”
Jerusalem’s temple became a different realm, heaven’s throne room — Yahweh on the throne and his presence spreading throughout the building. Instead of Uzziah’s earthly throne room with the entourage of servants and ministers bustling at the king’s command, naked flying snakes with human voices fluttered around, an unwearying divine choir circling like a slow tornado and chanting, “Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”
Isaiah had expected to enter the temple’s worship. He found himself, instead, surrounded by heaven’s worship, holiness and glory singed the air around and through him. The tempest of seraphs’ chanting pulsed through the shrine like falling stars erupting through clouds.
Isaiah couldn’t move, didn’t even blink, just wide-eyed, tears dripping down his face from the acrid smoke. He tried to take in all that was swirling around him: Yahweh in the center, his holiness bursting out in glory obscured only by smoke. Isaiah couldn’t think, a storm sweeping through him, neither body nor mind served him, just the overpowering impression that Yahweh-God the incomparable, the unapproachable, the Creator and sustainer of all creation, in person confronted him.
The earth heaved and jolted him violently. He felt as though he himself were revolving on the threshold’s pivots. He jerked his arm in front of his eyes, stepped backwards and blurted, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, Yahweh of hosts!” He’d formerly spoken as Yahweh’s prophet, yet even that service now seemed impure, tainted by his sin and that of his countrymen.
One of the seraphs flew to him, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. Isaiah watched a glowing hot coal approaching his face. He saw behind it the tongs and farther away still he glimpsed the unearthly creature’s feathery hands, and a mouth singing with an inhuman voice. What could he do but stand and wait for the creature to strike his mouth and to tell him, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.”
Isaiah was shaking from head to foot when Yahweh put the question to the heavenly servants, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”
Isaiah had listened into Yahweh’s deliberations with the heavenly council: “Who will go for us?” Formerly he’d delivered Yahweh’s messages to others, but at this moment the question reverberating in heaven addressed him personally. The question hung in the temple haze waiting for him to answer — for him to begin again as prophet, for him to be authorized, commissioned, empowered anew.
No other human was present. Isaiah had been selected. At that moment, any thought of an earthly king faded away. All that was left for his newly purified lips was to consent to the heavenly king’s question. He managed to utter the words, “Here am I; send me!”
Preaching point: Overwhelmed by heaven into a new earthly ministry.
[“Now the rest of the acts of Uzziah, from first to last, the prophet Isaiah son of Amoz wrote,” 2 Chronicles 26:22. “Seraphs (literally ‘burning ones’), perhaps serpentine in form (14:29; 30:6; Numbers 21:6, 8; Deuteronomy 8:15.” The New Oxford Annotated Bible, Third Edition, p. 987.
“Seraphs, winged cobras (14:29; 30:6) often represented in Egyptian art, in association with Syro-Phoenician thrones, and on Israelite seals with wings outstretched to protect the deity.” The HarperCollins Study Bible, p. 1022.]
* * *
Living in the Spirit
by Peter Andrew Smith
Romans 8:12-17
David covered his face and wept. He let the great sobs overtake him as he remembered Keira.
He thought about how her face lit up when he gave her that doll from the shelf last week. She danced and sang and even Helen, usually burdened by the worries of raising the little girl by herself, had laughed and the two of them went out the door so happy. That was the last time he saw either of them.
It was so different from the first time he met her. She was so solemn and shy when they came through the doors of the mission and she hid behind her mother when he said hello to her. That was when David made it his goal to get her to open up a bit and eventually, she did. After a few weeks, she would rush to visit with him - to tell him or show him something. He treasured each one of those times. Through his tears, David saw Tammy sit down beside him. She didn’t say anything but just let him cry. When his sobs subsided a bit, she pressed a tissue into his hands and David wiped his face.
“I’m sorry. I thought you should know.” Tammy put her arm around his shoulders. “I expect the people coming to the mission will be talking about it. Let’s face it -- everyone who came here knew them.”
David nodded. “It just seems so senseless.”
“It is. Unfortunately, it’s one of the things that happens all too frequently here. Between the drugs, the poverty, the domestic violence, death seems to be just around the corner for too many of the people who come to this mission.”
“I know,” David said. “It is just that they were both so young. It’s hard to believe they’re gone.”
“I know.” Tammy considered him for a moment. “Do you want to take the rest of the day off? I think Lewis and I can cover.”
“No,” David shook his head. “I won’t leave you shorthanded just because I’m upset. I’ll be okay to work this afternoon.”
“Really?”
“Really. I had a nice chat with Keira and her mom once about church. They usually went to the little one by the river. One time she was in, Keira sang a song they learned in Sunday School to me.” David choked back a sob. “She was so sweet.”
“She was,” Tammy said. “I actually taught Sunday School to Helen when she was younger.”
David looked at his colleague. “You did?”
“I did. She had a hard upbringing in the foster care system and unfortunately made some extremely poor choices with men but when Keira was born, Helen turned her life around and was on a good path. She made a break from her old life and started anew.” Tammy paused for a moment. “I know that wasn’t easy for her. The people around her didn’t like her going back to church but she did it anyway. She was at every Sunday service and was upgrading her education to get work when Keira was old enough to go to school.”
“I never knew that about Helen.” David sat back. “I didn’t speak that much to her.”
“You never knew because that little girl always came straight for you to tell you something or show you something.” Tammy smiled. “I think sometimes Helen brought her here more than they needed to come just so Keira could talk to you.”
David wiped at his eyes. “I know my day was better when I saw them both coming in.”
“All of our days were better for knowing them.” Tammy took a deep breath. “Helen told me once that the best choice she ever made was to live in the Spirit and put to death the misdeeds of the flesh. I’m not sure what she meant.”
David smiled. “That’s from Paul’s letter to the Romans where he reminds us that if we live for God and turn away from temptation then we’re able to share in the promises which God makes to us through Jesus and we inherit the gifts God gives to us.”
“So she knew what waited for her after death?”
“I think so. Heaven knows from what you told me she knew enough of suffering for her faith. May she and that little darling child know the promises of new life in heaven now. We were blessed to have them in our lives and now in death we have to entrust them to God’s boundless love and eternal care.”
“May God grant them both peace and may they be dancing with the angels in heaven.” Tammy added.
“Amen,” David said. “Amen”
* * *
Glory Be!
by David O. Bales
Psalm 29
Gina Tettering wished she could wear her lederhosen; but fellow hikers told her that the Mystic Lake Trail would freeze overnight. She wanted the girls she led to dress adequately, she must also. She hoped that this overnight hike would cement her relationship with the girls. She’d agreed to be middle school youth group sponsor for a year. She resolved to do better than her first attempt with the entire group at the Grand Canyon. She’d been too much geology teacher and too little an adult sharing herself with young teens. The results of that near failure was obvious when her invitation for an overnight hike with the girls netted only four takers.
Leyla was the first student to the church that morning. Leyla had become Gina’s new friend and she could find something funny in almost anything. Gina expected that on this hike she’d need all the help Leyla’s humor offered. Leyla was sure to buddy-up with Nicole who was the kindest girl in the youth group. No problem with those two.
Gina was especially concerned about how Charlotte would conduct herself. She’d only observed Charlotte when boys were around. Charlotte was a magnet for them. How would she act with only girls on an overnight hike?
Charlotte came sleepy-eyed and sullen, her parents cheery. As Charlotte’s father lifted out her backpack, Gina noticed her parents’ luggage remaining in the back of their SUV. She saw them smiling to one another as they drove away.
When DeeDee arrived, she rushed to Charlotte and gave her a hug as one would to a felon just sentenced to twenty years hard labor. DeeDee was always drawn into Charlotte’s mood.
Gina drove the church van two hours to the trail head. The girls, after a little chatting and moaning about parents, slept. At the trailhead, Gina stepped from the van and swept her arms toward the immense forest around them, “Glory be!” as though she’d just won the bonus round on “Wheel of Fortune.”
Everyone had learned Miss Tettering’s favorite expression of “Glory be.” Leyla’s mother guessed that she’d picked it up somewhere back east, maybe northeast.
She did a final check of the girls’ gear, depositing cell phones in the van and insisting Charlotte leave her dozen beauty magazines and Leyla abandon her quart of gumdrops. “We’re going to experience God’s wonderful creation. Not done much anymore. You’ll find yourself in a totally different world than the city.”
“I was worried about that,” Charlotte said. DeeDee leaned against her empathetically.
“Okay, up the trail. The map says it’s well marked. Can’t get lost. We’ll take turns leading, just like life. Who wants to lead first?”
Nicole stepped forward and the trek began. They kept up the pace of fifty minutes hiking, and taking ten minutes to rest. By noon they’d only encountered a couple of non-fatal trips on rocks and stumbles over roots. Within ten minutes into each segment of hiking, the talk receded into only occasional gripes. Except, of course, for Gina who commented at every view, “Glory be. Look at that,” which, in order to stop and rest for a moment, everyone did.
At their lunch stop they gratefully took off their packs. Gina breathed in deeply and said, “Ah, smell the trees. Glory be.”
“Smells like Pine-Sol,” Leyla said.
Gina pulled out her small Bible. “Since we’re surrounded by the natural world, we’ll listen to God’s Word in the psalms about nature. Listen carefully as I read Psalm 104. She waved a hand and pointed to the landscape as she read. Once she waved both hands, losing her place in the reading, but continuing to aim the girls’ attention to the realm of nature that God had created, how good it is, wonderful, in fact. Glory be.
She set down her Bible and said, “The food you ate doesn’t just come from the grocery store. Behind it all, underneath it all, is God’s supporting hand.”
She glanced face to face but found no response. “Er,” she said, “What did you get from the psalm?”
Charlotte shivered, “Animals of the forest creeping out at night?” She looked at the other girls as if she wanted them to join in her fear and do something about it.
“No, no, no.” Gina said, “You’re fine. Any animals here are much more afraid of you than you of them.”
Her statement didn’t seem to assure the girls.
Leyla popped up, “Miss Tettering, I like the part about God making wine to gladden the human heart.” The laughter and Gina’s embarrassment took the girls’ minds off the wild animals that would devour them after sunset. It might also have been what distracted Gina’s mind from the growing cloud cover.
They began the afternoon march to their destination: A forest service site a stone’s throw from the lake with a three-sided slab-wood lean-to. As evening approached, doubly darkened by the solid timber and a growing cloud cover, Gina peered at her map of the trail. When they were a quarter mile from the camp she said, “Start picking up wood. The firewood will already be gathered near the camp. Let’s get as much as we can to save another trip later. God provides the wood, but we must carry it.
“What’s that rumbling sound?” Charlotte asked.
“Wasn’t a choochoo train,” Leyla said.
Mystic Lake revealed its shore as they rounded the last turn of the trail. It was probably picturesque, but most of it was covered with low clouds scudding toward them. Gina still managed, “Glory be.”
The four girls deposited their trove of wood beside the rock-circled fire pit. “What’s this?” Charlotte said, pointing into the little shelter. “It’s missing a side.”
“And probably a bathroom,” Leyla said.
“You know about the bathrooms,” Gina said, “That’s why I gave you the zip-locked little plastic trowels. Don’t go far away but bury everything.” No matter how sweet she tried to sound, the girls grimaced in unison. Lightning lit the distant forest behind them, and thunder murmured three seconds later.
As daylight faded, they managed to get a fire started; but, even with the five of them, they hadn’t gathered much fuel and the wind came up, making it hard to keep it burning. Whitecaps rose on the lake as clouds finally covered it completely. The five stood beside the fire, holding their hoods to their faces. They tried to eat with their backs to the wind and moving side to side as the smoke whipped one way and then the other. It was nearly dark when rain began. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Thunder crushed upon them a second later.
They squeezed into the shelter, slapping the dust off their clothes, and trying to get their sleeping bags arranged around their backpacks and one another. It was a tight fit. Huge drops immediately started to fall — sideways. The cloudburst hit the firepit extinguishing the flame in half a minute. Soon even the sizzling smoke was drowned.
“Well,” Gina said, “at least we don’t have to haul water from the lake to put out the fire.”
Lightning struck near the campground simultaneously with thunder like a loud earthquake. The four girls shrieked and shied away from the shelter’s open side. Gina said, “That’s part of God’s creation. That one flash is stronger than all the lightbulbs in town multiplied ten thousand times.”
No one seemed interested. Leyla asked, “Incandescent, fluorescent or LED?”
A strange sound banged through the campground. Five flashlights shined out from the shelter and behind four were frightened looks. The wind increased, creaking the trees, and carrying pine needles and twigs.
“Okay,” Gina said, “everyone into our bags.” The four shuffled around their gear by flashlight without much grumbling, because by now they weren’t only scared but cold. They heard the waves curling onto the shore. The wind screamed through the trees, knocking down a large limb twenty yards away. The same gust hit the shelter, puffing through the cracks between the slabs. They all cringed.
Leyla glanced at Gina and said, “Hey, we don’t have to worry about the animals of the forest creeping out at night.”
Nicole forced a laugh. Charlotte and DeeDee didn’t.
The four girls hunkered down, pulling their sleeping bags to their chins, looking to Gina like four sausages squeezed tightly in the butcher’s display case.
Gina’s flashlight was the only one on now and she rustled to get her little Bible. “I’m switching the psalm I’ll read. This was going to be our final devotional on our hike out tomorrow. But I’ll read it now.”
“Like this is something final?” Leyla said,
Gina didn’t reply. She sat up and tried to secure her sleeping bag around her shoulders, holding the flashlight in one hand and her Bible in the other. It was downright cold.
“Psalm 29. And when I read it, here’s the key: Seven times it mentions the Lord’s ‘voice.’ That’s the word also used for ‘thunder.’ The psalm’s about worship during a thunderstorm ‘voice,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘voice.’” She tried to make it sound like a joyful equation. She read distinctly as possible. She stopped twice for the interruptions of lightning and thunder, although the thunder had advanced half a second away. Other than squeaks when the thunder hit, the girls were silent, maybe even intent.
With her shivering hands Gina shut her Bible with a ceremonial flourish. She pulled her sleeping bag to her neck and clicked off the flashlight.
In the darkness she said, “‘Voice,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘voice.’ The psalm spreads heaven’s glorious worship all through our worship here on earth. And we realize God’s creation isn’t merely beautiful, it’s strong and powerful. We might not think of God’s greatness in this way when we’re in church, but out here we realize that God’s glory can knock you off your feet.” Gina paused and said, “Glory be.”
The four girls muttered, not quite in unison, “Glory be.”
Preaching point: The resemblance of a storm’s power to worship.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 30, 2021 issue.
Copyright 2021 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“One King Dead, Another King Eternal” by David O. Bales
“Living in the Spirit” by Peter Andrew Smith
“Glory Be!” by David O. Bales
One King Dead, Another King Eternal
by David O. Bales
Isaiah 6:1-8
Wherever Isaiah walked, people looked his way. Other than the king, he was Jerusalem’s best-known person. He was listened to and talked about — a priest, by birth among the only persons authorized to offer sacrifices in the temple. Also, as a prophet his scorching oracles often roiled Judah’s rich as well as his fellow priests. Later, he was designated to write the history of two kings. But one day his prophetic life started over.
Isaiah noted that it was the year King Uzziah died. Although the king was self-demoted and branded by his pride-driven sacrilege in the temple, with his son as regent he’d run his administration longer than Kings David or Solomon. For most people Uzziah was the only king they’d known. His death became the nation’s “now what?” moment. At his death uncertainty hung in Jerusalem’s air. Priests and Levites spoke of nothing else. A struggle over succession to the throne could bring civil war. The northern Hebrew kingdom showed that problem.
Everyone could see that in Uzziah’s reign the nation became more secure. Borders better protected. Grain exports increased. Larger herds and flocks grazed safely on Judah’s rocky hills. Above all, the temple in Jerusalem efficiently offered sacrifices every morning and evening to Yahweh-God. Yet, even with all that appeared stable, Jerusalem’s populous wondered what would happen now. A steady government depended on people — especially army commanders, elders, priests and the rich aristocracy.
Thus, Isaiah was extra-alert for a message from Yahweh. But no one, not the least he, expected to step into the temple and see Yahweh. He recorded it later, “I saw Yahweh sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.’ The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.”
Jerusalem’s temple became a different realm, heaven’s throne room — Yahweh on the throne and his presence spreading throughout the building. Instead of Uzziah’s earthly throne room with the entourage of servants and ministers bustling at the king’s command, naked flying snakes with human voices fluttered around, an unwearying divine choir circling like a slow tornado and chanting, “Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”
Isaiah had expected to enter the temple’s worship. He found himself, instead, surrounded by heaven’s worship, holiness and glory singed the air around and through him. The tempest of seraphs’ chanting pulsed through the shrine like falling stars erupting through clouds.
Isaiah couldn’t move, didn’t even blink, just wide-eyed, tears dripping down his face from the acrid smoke. He tried to take in all that was swirling around him: Yahweh in the center, his holiness bursting out in glory obscured only by smoke. Isaiah couldn’t think, a storm sweeping through him, neither body nor mind served him, just the overpowering impression that Yahweh-God the incomparable, the unapproachable, the Creator and sustainer of all creation, in person confronted him.
The earth heaved and jolted him violently. He felt as though he himself were revolving on the threshold’s pivots. He jerked his arm in front of his eyes, stepped backwards and blurted, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, Yahweh of hosts!” He’d formerly spoken as Yahweh’s prophet, yet even that service now seemed impure, tainted by his sin and that of his countrymen.
One of the seraphs flew to him, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. Isaiah watched a glowing hot coal approaching his face. He saw behind it the tongs and farther away still he glimpsed the unearthly creature’s feathery hands, and a mouth singing with an inhuman voice. What could he do but stand and wait for the creature to strike his mouth and to tell him, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.”
Isaiah was shaking from head to foot when Yahweh put the question to the heavenly servants, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”
Isaiah had listened into Yahweh’s deliberations with the heavenly council: “Who will go for us?” Formerly he’d delivered Yahweh’s messages to others, but at this moment the question reverberating in heaven addressed him personally. The question hung in the temple haze waiting for him to answer — for him to begin again as prophet, for him to be authorized, commissioned, empowered anew.
No other human was present. Isaiah had been selected. At that moment, any thought of an earthly king faded away. All that was left for his newly purified lips was to consent to the heavenly king’s question. He managed to utter the words, “Here am I; send me!”
Preaching point: Overwhelmed by heaven into a new earthly ministry.
[“Now the rest of the acts of Uzziah, from first to last, the prophet Isaiah son of Amoz wrote,” 2 Chronicles 26:22. “Seraphs (literally ‘burning ones’), perhaps serpentine in form (14:29; 30:6; Numbers 21:6, 8; Deuteronomy 8:15.” The New Oxford Annotated Bible, Third Edition, p. 987.
“Seraphs, winged cobras (14:29; 30:6) often represented in Egyptian art, in association with Syro-Phoenician thrones, and on Israelite seals with wings outstretched to protect the deity.” The HarperCollins Study Bible, p. 1022.]
* * *
Living in the Spirit
by Peter Andrew Smith
Romans 8:12-17
David covered his face and wept. He let the great sobs overtake him as he remembered Keira.
He thought about how her face lit up when he gave her that doll from the shelf last week. She danced and sang and even Helen, usually burdened by the worries of raising the little girl by herself, had laughed and the two of them went out the door so happy. That was the last time he saw either of them.
It was so different from the first time he met her. She was so solemn and shy when they came through the doors of the mission and she hid behind her mother when he said hello to her. That was when David made it his goal to get her to open up a bit and eventually, she did. After a few weeks, she would rush to visit with him - to tell him or show him something. He treasured each one of those times. Through his tears, David saw Tammy sit down beside him. She didn’t say anything but just let him cry. When his sobs subsided a bit, she pressed a tissue into his hands and David wiped his face.
“I’m sorry. I thought you should know.” Tammy put her arm around his shoulders. “I expect the people coming to the mission will be talking about it. Let’s face it -- everyone who came here knew them.”
David nodded. “It just seems so senseless.”
“It is. Unfortunately, it’s one of the things that happens all too frequently here. Between the drugs, the poverty, the domestic violence, death seems to be just around the corner for too many of the people who come to this mission.”
“I know,” David said. “It is just that they were both so young. It’s hard to believe they’re gone.”
“I know.” Tammy considered him for a moment. “Do you want to take the rest of the day off? I think Lewis and I can cover.”
“No,” David shook his head. “I won’t leave you shorthanded just because I’m upset. I’ll be okay to work this afternoon.”
“Really?”
“Really. I had a nice chat with Keira and her mom once about church. They usually went to the little one by the river. One time she was in, Keira sang a song they learned in Sunday School to me.” David choked back a sob. “She was so sweet.”
“She was,” Tammy said. “I actually taught Sunday School to Helen when she was younger.”
David looked at his colleague. “You did?”
“I did. She had a hard upbringing in the foster care system and unfortunately made some extremely poor choices with men but when Keira was born, Helen turned her life around and was on a good path. She made a break from her old life and started anew.” Tammy paused for a moment. “I know that wasn’t easy for her. The people around her didn’t like her going back to church but she did it anyway. She was at every Sunday service and was upgrading her education to get work when Keira was old enough to go to school.”
“I never knew that about Helen.” David sat back. “I didn’t speak that much to her.”
“You never knew because that little girl always came straight for you to tell you something or show you something.” Tammy smiled. “I think sometimes Helen brought her here more than they needed to come just so Keira could talk to you.”
David wiped at his eyes. “I know my day was better when I saw them both coming in.”
“All of our days were better for knowing them.” Tammy took a deep breath. “Helen told me once that the best choice she ever made was to live in the Spirit and put to death the misdeeds of the flesh. I’m not sure what she meant.”
David smiled. “That’s from Paul’s letter to the Romans where he reminds us that if we live for God and turn away from temptation then we’re able to share in the promises which God makes to us through Jesus and we inherit the gifts God gives to us.”
“So she knew what waited for her after death?”
“I think so. Heaven knows from what you told me she knew enough of suffering for her faith. May she and that little darling child know the promises of new life in heaven now. We were blessed to have them in our lives and now in death we have to entrust them to God’s boundless love and eternal care.”
“May God grant them both peace and may they be dancing with the angels in heaven.” Tammy added.
“Amen,” David said. “Amen”
* * *
Glory Be!
by David O. Bales
Psalm 29
Gina Tettering wished she could wear her lederhosen; but fellow hikers told her that the Mystic Lake Trail would freeze overnight. She wanted the girls she led to dress adequately, she must also. She hoped that this overnight hike would cement her relationship with the girls. She’d agreed to be middle school youth group sponsor for a year. She resolved to do better than her first attempt with the entire group at the Grand Canyon. She’d been too much geology teacher and too little an adult sharing herself with young teens. The results of that near failure was obvious when her invitation for an overnight hike with the girls netted only four takers.
Leyla was the first student to the church that morning. Leyla had become Gina’s new friend and she could find something funny in almost anything. Gina expected that on this hike she’d need all the help Leyla’s humor offered. Leyla was sure to buddy-up with Nicole who was the kindest girl in the youth group. No problem with those two.
Gina was especially concerned about how Charlotte would conduct herself. She’d only observed Charlotte when boys were around. Charlotte was a magnet for them. How would she act with only girls on an overnight hike?
Charlotte came sleepy-eyed and sullen, her parents cheery. As Charlotte’s father lifted out her backpack, Gina noticed her parents’ luggage remaining in the back of their SUV. She saw them smiling to one another as they drove away.
When DeeDee arrived, she rushed to Charlotte and gave her a hug as one would to a felon just sentenced to twenty years hard labor. DeeDee was always drawn into Charlotte’s mood.
Gina drove the church van two hours to the trail head. The girls, after a little chatting and moaning about parents, slept. At the trailhead, Gina stepped from the van and swept her arms toward the immense forest around them, “Glory be!” as though she’d just won the bonus round on “Wheel of Fortune.”
Everyone had learned Miss Tettering’s favorite expression of “Glory be.” Leyla’s mother guessed that she’d picked it up somewhere back east, maybe northeast.
She did a final check of the girls’ gear, depositing cell phones in the van and insisting Charlotte leave her dozen beauty magazines and Leyla abandon her quart of gumdrops. “We’re going to experience God’s wonderful creation. Not done much anymore. You’ll find yourself in a totally different world than the city.”
“I was worried about that,” Charlotte said. DeeDee leaned against her empathetically.
“Okay, up the trail. The map says it’s well marked. Can’t get lost. We’ll take turns leading, just like life. Who wants to lead first?”
Nicole stepped forward and the trek began. They kept up the pace of fifty minutes hiking, and taking ten minutes to rest. By noon they’d only encountered a couple of non-fatal trips on rocks and stumbles over roots. Within ten minutes into each segment of hiking, the talk receded into only occasional gripes. Except, of course, for Gina who commented at every view, “Glory be. Look at that,” which, in order to stop and rest for a moment, everyone did.
At their lunch stop they gratefully took off their packs. Gina breathed in deeply and said, “Ah, smell the trees. Glory be.”
“Smells like Pine-Sol,” Leyla said.
Gina pulled out her small Bible. “Since we’re surrounded by the natural world, we’ll listen to God’s Word in the psalms about nature. Listen carefully as I read Psalm 104. She waved a hand and pointed to the landscape as she read. Once she waved both hands, losing her place in the reading, but continuing to aim the girls’ attention to the realm of nature that God had created, how good it is, wonderful, in fact. Glory be.
She set down her Bible and said, “The food you ate doesn’t just come from the grocery store. Behind it all, underneath it all, is God’s supporting hand.”
She glanced face to face but found no response. “Er,” she said, “What did you get from the psalm?”
Charlotte shivered, “Animals of the forest creeping out at night?” She looked at the other girls as if she wanted them to join in her fear and do something about it.
“No, no, no.” Gina said, “You’re fine. Any animals here are much more afraid of you than you of them.”
Her statement didn’t seem to assure the girls.
Leyla popped up, “Miss Tettering, I like the part about God making wine to gladden the human heart.” The laughter and Gina’s embarrassment took the girls’ minds off the wild animals that would devour them after sunset. It might also have been what distracted Gina’s mind from the growing cloud cover.
They began the afternoon march to their destination: A forest service site a stone’s throw from the lake with a three-sided slab-wood lean-to. As evening approached, doubly darkened by the solid timber and a growing cloud cover, Gina peered at her map of the trail. When they were a quarter mile from the camp she said, “Start picking up wood. The firewood will already be gathered near the camp. Let’s get as much as we can to save another trip later. God provides the wood, but we must carry it.
“What’s that rumbling sound?” Charlotte asked.
“Wasn’t a choochoo train,” Leyla said.
Mystic Lake revealed its shore as they rounded the last turn of the trail. It was probably picturesque, but most of it was covered with low clouds scudding toward them. Gina still managed, “Glory be.”
The four girls deposited their trove of wood beside the rock-circled fire pit. “What’s this?” Charlotte said, pointing into the little shelter. “It’s missing a side.”
“And probably a bathroom,” Leyla said.
“You know about the bathrooms,” Gina said, “That’s why I gave you the zip-locked little plastic trowels. Don’t go far away but bury everything.” No matter how sweet she tried to sound, the girls grimaced in unison. Lightning lit the distant forest behind them, and thunder murmured three seconds later.
As daylight faded, they managed to get a fire started; but, even with the five of them, they hadn’t gathered much fuel and the wind came up, making it hard to keep it burning. Whitecaps rose on the lake as clouds finally covered it completely. The five stood beside the fire, holding their hoods to their faces. They tried to eat with their backs to the wind and moving side to side as the smoke whipped one way and then the other. It was nearly dark when rain began. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Thunder crushed upon them a second later.
They squeezed into the shelter, slapping the dust off their clothes, and trying to get their sleeping bags arranged around their backpacks and one another. It was a tight fit. Huge drops immediately started to fall — sideways. The cloudburst hit the firepit extinguishing the flame in half a minute. Soon even the sizzling smoke was drowned.
“Well,” Gina said, “at least we don’t have to haul water from the lake to put out the fire.”
Lightning struck near the campground simultaneously with thunder like a loud earthquake. The four girls shrieked and shied away from the shelter’s open side. Gina said, “That’s part of God’s creation. That one flash is stronger than all the lightbulbs in town multiplied ten thousand times.”
No one seemed interested. Leyla asked, “Incandescent, fluorescent or LED?”
A strange sound banged through the campground. Five flashlights shined out from the shelter and behind four were frightened looks. The wind increased, creaking the trees, and carrying pine needles and twigs.
“Okay,” Gina said, “everyone into our bags.” The four shuffled around their gear by flashlight without much grumbling, because by now they weren’t only scared but cold. They heard the waves curling onto the shore. The wind screamed through the trees, knocking down a large limb twenty yards away. The same gust hit the shelter, puffing through the cracks between the slabs. They all cringed.
Leyla glanced at Gina and said, “Hey, we don’t have to worry about the animals of the forest creeping out at night.”
Nicole forced a laugh. Charlotte and DeeDee didn’t.
The four girls hunkered down, pulling their sleeping bags to their chins, looking to Gina like four sausages squeezed tightly in the butcher’s display case.
Gina’s flashlight was the only one on now and she rustled to get her little Bible. “I’m switching the psalm I’ll read. This was going to be our final devotional on our hike out tomorrow. But I’ll read it now.”
“Like this is something final?” Leyla said,
Gina didn’t reply. She sat up and tried to secure her sleeping bag around her shoulders, holding the flashlight in one hand and her Bible in the other. It was downright cold.
“Psalm 29. And when I read it, here’s the key: Seven times it mentions the Lord’s ‘voice.’ That’s the word also used for ‘thunder.’ The psalm’s about worship during a thunderstorm ‘voice,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘voice.’” She tried to make it sound like a joyful equation. She read distinctly as possible. She stopped twice for the interruptions of lightning and thunder, although the thunder had advanced half a second away. Other than squeaks when the thunder hit, the girls were silent, maybe even intent.
With her shivering hands Gina shut her Bible with a ceremonial flourish. She pulled her sleeping bag to her neck and clicked off the flashlight.
In the darkness she said, “‘Voice,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘thunder,’ ‘voice.’ The psalm spreads heaven’s glorious worship all through our worship here on earth. And we realize God’s creation isn’t merely beautiful, it’s strong and powerful. We might not think of God’s greatness in this way when we’re in church, but out here we realize that God’s glory can knock you off your feet.” Gina paused and said, “Glory be.”
The four girls muttered, not quite in unison, “Glory be.”
Preaching point: The resemblance of a storm’s power to worship.
*****************************************
StoryShare, May 30, 2021 issue.
Copyright 2021 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
