The other day, I dragged through my exercise period and my prayer period, neither with much enthusiasm. Perhaps, I had a subroutine running in the back of my computer-brain. That subroutine is a visual display of all the things “wrong” with the world, our Country, and with me. Should you open the program, you’d find it strangely familiar, strangely boring, and strangely depressing.
God gave me the computer-brain, and He told me what programs to run on it. The Apostle Paul voices God’s choice of programs in Philippians 4:8,9.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice . . .
It appears, though, that I would rather choose to run my own programs. It also appears that such is a continuing theme with me. I suppose those aberrant subroutines could be likened to “bloatware” on your new “Samsung Galaxy X,” you know, those programs that you don’t want, and that eat up memory, but that you can’t get rid of unless you are a software engineer, which I certainly am not. According to one writer, on a new, out of the box, top-of-the-line phone from a major maker, he found 54 “bloatware” apps.[1]
To purge me of some of these subroutines, God sent me on a walk. At first, I didn’t want to go because I had already “slothed through” my exercises and was in no mood to learn anything. Honestly, I had no idea what God was “up to” in sending me on the walk, but I guessed that if I felt a strong impression from God to do it, I ought to go.
The walk wasn’t long, only about 20 minutes, and for most of it, I was just walking and thinking. As I walked and thought, I heard a bird sing, and then another, and then another. An unusual cloud formation blown by a brisk wind drew my attention to the autumn-blue sky, and I noticed a few hunter-green leaves turning red and yellow and then falling. As I heard and saw these marvels, I sensed that something was up.
As I rounded the clubhouse turn and headed for the home stretch, I imagined an old hymn, a hymn that could be found in most any denominational hymnal due to its universal nature.
This is my Father’s world. All nature sings, and round me rings, The music of the spheres. This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, Declare their maker’s praise. This is my Father’s world; He shines in all that’s fair; In the rustling grass, I hear Him pass; He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father’s world: why should my heart be sad? The Lord is King; let the heavens ring! God reigns; let the earth be glad![2]
God said to me,
“In the Beginning, [I] created the heavens and the earth.” (Genesis 1:1.) After that, I unveiled a grand plan for the universe, and I AM in the process of working out that plan. It will be as I say it will be. It will roll out as I say it will roll out. Along the way, a bunch of events that appear from your perspective to be bad, even catastrophic are, in actuality, only “small stuff.” Don’t sweat the small stuff.
The aforementioned Apostle Paul admonished in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-22,
Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not treat prophecies with contempt but test them all; hold on to what is good, reject every kind of evil.
You know, viewed against the backdrop of creation, the unscrolling of God’s grand plan, and the anticipation of that plan’s coming to fulfillment, the bad things that occur are not as important as hearing birds sing, seeing clouds roll along, and feeling the autumn breeze. Perhaps, the point of this exercise was to show me that no matter how bad it seems to get in my “old man” mind, God is still in charge.
So let it be written, so let it be done.
[1] Savov, Vlad. “Isn’t it time we Declared our independence from Bloatware?” The Verge, July 4, 2018. Accessed October 25, 2020.
[2] Babcock, Maltbie Davenport. “My Father’s World,” a poem published posthumously in 1901. Tune: Shepherd, Franklin L. Terra Beata (Blessed Earth,) 1915.
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