Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill?
2 He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart.
3 He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour.
4 In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not.
5 He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved.
Public Domain KJV text from Wordproject.org
I thought, “Would God accept me in His home?” This ultimate destination of peace and wholeness is worthy of seeking. It’s held up as a motivator: “don’t sin,” “be good,” “say your prayers.” But is this introspection God’s priority for us? Instead, might we water gardens rather than burn down briers?
Step outside, walk a block or a few, and you will find someone who can’t begin to imagine their Edenic home, their custom mansion. Currently, their lives are full of blood and dirt and darkness, a fact that haunts them. The smallest hope of escape or even the simplest act of kindness would be to them a heaven on earth, a garden of rest. Dry ground needs only a drop to be softened.
Might you be the watering pot that God will bring to that lonely soul, that dry ground? To King David, this heavenly home is inhabited by those who “do what is righteous.” Why is that the standard? Why must we “do” anything? Well, I ask, how could a Christian, whose Savior was a “friend of sinners” do otherwise? Can we swim in the river of life and refuse to share a drop?
Pastor, Waterloo, Iowa USA (as of this writing)