By the time I was 21, I had been thoroughly inoculated against any threat of marriage by the wistful comments of my married friends: “Oh, you can do that now, but just wait till you get married and have kids . . .” They painted an image of a small, constricted world with no scented candles (dangerous open flame!), no possibility of travel (too complicated!), and no orderly bookcases (kids destroy everything!).

When I eventually did get married and start a family, I was determined to prove them all wrong. I bent over backward to prove that nothing in my life had changed. Sure, we had a new baby, but we strapped our firstborn into his fifty-pound car seat for long road trips. We dragged ourselves through antique stores and spent Saturdays doing yard work together. We welcomed houseguests into our fixer-upper and fed them from the produce grown in our huge garden. We did it! Life went forward unchanged — except that I was exhausted all the time.

Today, nearly thirty years later, I want to pour that tired woman a steaming mug of tea, sit across the table from her, and whisper to her that no is not forever, but it can be a freeing word when we say it at the right time. I would tell her to get comfortable with uncertainty in the small details and to sharpen her understanding of God’s sovereignty over every season of life. Then I would offer three insights that I discovered on the job, but wish I had known from the start.

Lesson 1: Make the truth your home.

We have a choice to make every day as to whether we will dwell on the positive or the negative aspects of that day. Will we choose to focus on negative campaign ads, wildfires in the Pacific Northwest, and the parts of our schedule we can’t control — or will we hand our anxieties over to the God of the universe? We might employ the apostle Paul’s language and call this taking “every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5).

If this sounds impossible to you, then you’re on the right track. Paul was not a self-help guru, and while he knew where his bootstraps were and could employ them as needed (and so should we!), nowhere in Scripture do we get the message that Christianity is a self-improvement project. The discipline of our mind, emotions, and will is just one battle in the believer’s ongoing warfare, and God has equipped us with weapons that are effective for that spiritual battle. Psalm 1 describes the way of the righteous as a way that is steeped in biblical truth. God’s word is an object of delight and regular meditation.

During one long February of serial stomach viruses and lonely isolation with my four sick kids, I discovered that regular doses of gospel truth were far more effective than caffeine or a girlfriend chat. Even the Son of God, in his time on earth, used Scripture as a potent weapon against evil, and he’s our example. The point is to give the truth more room in your life than you are giving to the screaming banshees inside your head.

“In the endless monotony of laundry and food preparation, our hearts need a beautiful horizon of truth ahead of us.”

In the endless monotony of laundry and food preparation, our hearts need a beautiful horizon of truth ahead of us to energize our efforts. Love of Christ fueled by biblical knowledge motivates daily obedience and inspires a healthy longing for his return.

Lesson 2: You are more than what you do.

As believers, we embrace the truth that our salvation comes to us by grace, but when it comes to living the Christian life, we’re often not so sure. New mothers can be some of the worst Pharisees. Cloth diapers versus disposables, breastfeeding versus formula, eventually how we educate our children — they all become points upon which we divide and judge one another.

I chose to quit working outside the home after the birth of our oldest son, and since we homeschooled, my résumé went on mothballs for over twenty years. Whenever I allowed myself to “walk . . . in the counsel of the wicked,” I felt apologetic about my choice (Psalm 1:1). Maybe I really could “have it all”? Was I missing out by not having a career?

Then, listening to a different chorus of error, I would begin to define myself as a “stay-at-home mum,” making it the most important element of my identity. I was tempted to condemn the choices of other mums, and that habit of comparison built walls where bridges of understanding would have been so much more redemptive.

Finding grace to “delight in the law of the Lord,” to focus on who God is, enabled me to accept who I was (Psalm 1:2). Whether you stay home full time with your children or continue to be employed in some capacity, your “job” does not define you. You may prepare menus and grocery lists a month in advance, or you may do your best meal planning standing in front of an open refrigerator door. You may vacuum daily, preside over a miraculous two-day laundry turnaround time, and administer a color-coded family calendar on your kitchen wall. Or you may function so well on the fly that planning ahead feels like going to jail.

There is no formula for perfect parenting. You will never be a perfect wife or a perfect mother — but you may drive yourself and your family crazy trying to be. There was free and abundant grace available when God first saved you. Why should it suddenly be scarce?

Lesson 3: Build habits you can fall back on.

When you are tired, emotionally spent, or simply not paying attention, you will fall back on your habits. Strong spiritual practices give your mind a good place to go so that it can direct your heart toward its rightful Object. The blessing of strong roots is promised to the one who meditates on Scripture “day and night” (Psalm 1:2–3). As a young mother, I wanted to be rooted in truth, stable and reliable from day to day, so that my children would be able to make the leap from dependable parent to dependable God.

“When you are tired, emotionally spent, or simply not paying attention, you will fall back on your habits.”

Memorizing Psalm 103 provided praise words for a tired brain. Learning Psalm 91 reassured me that God would be trustworthy. Soaking in the truth of Romans 8 reinforced my trust in God’s persistent, never-giving-up love that would flow to me and my family. Truth from Psalm 1 was fuel for living a righteous life as a mother.

Motherhood is certainly not the only path to sanctification, but its challenges pushed me toward a deeper dependence upon God and the miracle of actual righteousness that the Holy Spirit alone can produce in me. For example, the habit of confession paves the way to clear communication with God and others. The habit of taking God’s new mercies every morning makes it a whole lot easier to extend grace and forgiveness to your family as the day wears on.

Someday your family will be full grown, and you will want to have grown full of wisdom in your prayers for them and in your counsel to them. Your journey of faith will continue. I know this because I am still a work in progress today, still grace-dependent, and still sticking close to truth as the only safe home for my heart and mind. For this and for whatever lies ahead, God has more grace than we can begin to imagine.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15387138/sex-money-praise-power-no

Tucked away in Psalm 16 is a shocking statement:

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight. (Psalm 16:3)

“All my delight?” Could King David mean that? Could he really mean that all of his delight is in the people of God? He could. He says the saints are “the excellent ones.” This word is an important word, found throughout the Bible. Elsewhere it is translated as majestic.

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! (Psalm 8:1)

So then, as the name of the Lord is majestic and excellent, so the people who bear that name are majestic and excellent.

Ordinary and Majestic

This word for majestic (or excellent) can also be translated as mighty or noble. It’s often linked to glory, power, and magnificence. Mountains, ocean waves, massive cedars, great cities — all of these are described in the Bible as majestic. When used of people, the word often refers to princes, rulers, and lords, those who have official positions of authority over others.

David Mathis explores the meaning of this biblical term as applied to God:

In our language, as in biblical terms, the word captures not only greatness but also goodness, both bigness and beauty, awesome power together with pleasant admiration.

“God’s people have a kind of grandeur about them, one that calls forth awe and wonder.”

God’s people have a kind of grandeur about them, one that calls forth awe and wonder from David. Such grandeur may not be visible physically, but, as C.S. Lewis reminds us, someday it will be. “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship” (The Weight of Glory, 45).

When Dante encounters the apostles Peter and James in Paradise, he bows down before these “great and glorious princes.” After an encouragement from his guide Beatrice, he raises up his eyes “unto those mountains that had bowed them” (Paradiso, canto 25, lines 38–39). Dante, like David, is awed and delighted by the saints, who are as majestic as mountains.

Mankind and My Odd Neighbor

It’s important to note that David doesn’t delight in the saints merely as they will appear in glory; he delights in the saints “in the land.” In other words, these are real people, on earth, at the present time. How easy it is to love mankind in general, and yet how difficult to love particular individuals. As the old joke says, “I love humanity; it’s people I can’t stand.” The Christian variation of this is to love what Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls “the visionary ideal of community” (Life Together, 27). But this idealized abstraction is merely a wish-dream, and the moment it comes into contact with concrete people, it vanishes like a mist.

Lewis identifies the demonic strategy in such a temptation. Screwtape encourages his young protégé to exploit the gap between glorious expressions like “the body of Christ” and the actual faces in the next pew.

Provided that any of those neighbours sing out of tune, or have boots that squeak, or double chins, or odd clothes, the patient will quite easily believe that their religion must therefore be somehow ridiculous. . . . Work hard, then, on the disappointment or anticlimax which is certainly coming to the patient during his first few weeks as a churchman. (The Screwtape Letters, 6–7)

“How easy it is to love mankind in general, and yet how difficult to love particular individuals.”

David’s celebration in Psalm 16 avoids precisely this disappointment. David is not confessing his delight in an abstraction, in a wish-dream community. The majestic ones that have captured his delight are the saints in the land, near at hand, singing out of tune with their double chins and odd clothes. David looks upon them and says, “Majestic. Excellent. All my delight.”

Captured by God for God

How is David able to do this? How can he see majesty in such mundane simplicity? Because David knows that these are saints. That is, they are not merely the excellent ones; they are the holy ones. What draws David’s delight is that God’s people are set apart for his purposes.

These people reflect, however imperfectly, the majesty and glory and beauty of God’s own holiness. Henry Scougal once said, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love.” And so, David looks upon those who love God, he sees their worth and excellence, the majesty of their souls, and he says, “These are my people, and I love them.”

Jonathan Edwards said much the same thing. When we love something, we love when others love that same thing. That’s why fans of the same sports team immediately hit it off. The mutual joy forms the foundation of a new friendship. How much more when the object of our mutual admiration is God himself?

What heightens and advances the pleasure of society is the excellency and the love of those with whom we converse. But the saints are the excellent of the earth; they are possessed of excellency of the highest kind, and they only are endowed with true excellency. Proverbs 12:6, “The righteous is more excellent than his neighbor”; and 17:27, “A man of understanding is of an excellent spirit.” And certainly in such conversation is the greatest delight to be found. Psalm 16:2–3, “My goodness extendeth not to thee; but to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight.”

And as religion makes lovely, so it begets love, the purest and most ardent. Nothing so much tends to charity, peace, mutual benevolence and bounty as Christianity, and therefore nothing so much sweetens human society. (Works of Jonathan Edwards, 109).

Do We See Nobility?

David’s celebration, then, becomes an exhortation to us. It forces us to ask questions of ourselves and to seek God’s help in being conformed to the image of Christ. Do we see nobility in the simplest of saints? Do we delight in the saints in our land, particularly in our local church? Do we delight in actual people — quirks, warts, and all? Do we delight in them for their holiness and majesty, and do we delight in them in hopes of spurring them on to greater holiness and majesty?

If not, then perhaps we should turn Psalm 16 into a prayer.

Lord, we say to you, “You are our Lord; we have no good apart from you.” Help us to find your goodness in your people. Make us to know your holiness reflected in your saints. Lead us to see the worth, excellency, and majesty of each and every Christian that we meet, from the great to the small, from the strong to the weak. And then fill us with the joy of Jesus himself, who takes pleasure in you and in his people with all his delight.