SCRIPTURE: Psalm 123
“As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master…” (Psalm 123:2)
In this scenario, it is the proud, not God, that cause ridicule and contempt.
God is not like a cruel master, cursing and abusing his slaves.
But those praying do not look to their human masters for relief or hope.
Like the slaves of a later time, crying for God to ‘swing low and carry them home’.
Humans, not God, are the cause of cruelty, contempt, ridicule.
God has assigned care of the world to humans, and it has not gone well.
And God has assigned deliverance to humans too… that’s why it takes so long.
But Jesus comes as God’s ultimate deliverer, and is raising an army of deliverers.
Through Jesus, and through people like Him, God is slowly but surely turning the tables on evil.
Pray to Jesus for mercy and help, and then keep waiting, for it will come.
Hopefully in this life already, but if not, then for sure in the next life!
What do you sense the Lord saying to you?
PRAYER
Lord, we are bad rulers of the world. You have come as a Good Ruler, our hope is in You. Where I am troubled, please send help. Where others are troubled, show me how to help.
Jesus follower
trying to find His way
Observation/Application
I am reminded of Jesus in the Garden. He went to His Father in prayer for His will to be done and for strengthening powers. For those serving masters look to the master’s hands for help, so too I need to look for the Master’s help in my service to Him. He will answer. In this life or the next. He will heal in this life or the next. He will take us from the affliction or the affliction from us. But I, I must have my eyes fixed upon Him for He is the answer to everything. I need to turn my eyes on Jesus. As He taught us to pray – Give us today our daily bread. He in my Provider fulfilling all my needs, taking care of me. I just need to walk with my risen Saviour.
O Master, let me walk with Thee,
In lowly paths of service free;
Tell me Thy secret; help me bear
The strain of toil, the fret of care.
Help me the slow of heart to move
By some clear, winning word of love;
Teach me the wayward feet to stay,
And guide them in the homeward way.
O Master, let me walk with Thee,
Before the taunting Pharisee;
Help me to bear the sting of spite,
The hate of men who hide Thy light.
The sore distrust of souls sincere
Who cannot read Thy judgments clear,
The dullness of the multitude,
Who dimly guess that Thou art good.
Teach me Thy patience; still with Thee
In closer, dearer, company,
In work that keeps faith sweet and strong,
In trust that triumphs over wrong.
In hope that sends a shining ray
Far down the future’s broadening way,
In peace that only Thou canst give,
With Thee, O Master, let me live.