A Sunday morning, a Psalm, a text and renewal

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.  -- Psalm 51:10

This morning I woke up and it was just blah. The Sunday morning blahs. It's very rare I feel this way on Sunday -- definitely on Mondays, often on other days, but rarely on Sundays -- and it felt strange. I look forward to Sundays, to the worship, the word and the fellowship at our church, to see lives elevated by the love of God through His son Jesus.

I reached for my phone to check the time and then pulled my hand back. I knew if I checked my phone I would get lost in it. It's precisely not what I needed in my state, to drown myself in the abyss of social media and become further entrenched in blah.

As I pondered the day and what it held and my condition, I confess to just a general bad attitude. About getting out of bed, about getting ready for church, about getting little Sabo kids ready for church, about going to church, about serving at church ... I could go on but you get the idea.

My heart was in a bad place. Dark, I guess you'd say. Ever had one of those mornings?

As I looked up at the ceiling the Lord gave me a word: Renew.

Okay, renew. And what do I do with that?

Get up, that's what. Go out to the living room and open my Bible. Then look for the word renew. The Christian life is sometimes just one little step of obedience. Followed by another. Then another.

And I landed upon Psalm 51:10: "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." A word precisely for me, a gift from God on this morning. The idea of this verse is that "create" is only something God can do.

I can't get it anywhere else, from any other source, from any other activity. This verse in its context is a plea from David to ask that his heart be renewed, restored and transformed. God is the only source of this renewal.

It was a word for me this morning. A word that a prayer of repentance is the renewal I needed and the renewal I received. Blah dissipated, eclipsed by the power of renewal unique to God.

But something remarkable happened later in the morning. After I had gotten Seth and Judah dressed, after I got Olivia and Ezra breakfast, after I loaded our music equipment in the van, after I helped set up for church and fetched the crackers and grape juice from Farm Fresh for communion.

I got a text from Ethan, who is up in Detroit with a group of students from his college serving people in need in the Motor City. The first text I received from him said that he realizes he says this every time he finishes a book in the Bible, but Hosea might be his favorite. Here's the exchange:

Me: "I am very partial to the minor prophets. Hosea was a tough, Godly man."
Ethan: "14:5 says that God is going to be like the dew and Israel is the lily. This is after 14 whole chapters of the people of Israel rejecting the word of the Lord and disobediently intermingling with the surrounding pagan tribes. Moreover, that image is so beautiful! The lily is a desert flower which means that the only source of water it ever gets is each morning when the coolness of the desert night condenses into a dew that rests on its petals and soaks it to its roots. When in bloom, the desert lily is a beautifully vibrant flower full of color. He is telling Israel that if they soak in his word and goodness and allow it to strengthen the roots of their soul, they will be beautiful amidst a spiritual desert. A good word for me to return to the dew each and every morning."
Me: "That's a really good for me as well son. Needed that this morning. Love you."
Ethan: "Love you too! I'll be praying for church this morning!"

One more thing about this morning of renewal. God answers prayers. Don't ever doubt it. This morning a gentleman who had grown up in the church, but had cultivated a hard heart to the Lord over the years, has been coming to church faithfully for nearly a couple of years. Today as we studied through Romans 10 he had scales fall from his eyes for good. He repented of his sins and gave his heart to the Lord.

He is renewed.

Adventures in Parenting, Vol. 1. `Hey Dad. Where Are You?'

Let's see...a Taco Bell run or this sunset?

Do you ever get to a late Sunday afternoon, take stock of your life, check your mutual funds, contemplate the meaning of life, wonder if anyone working on Wall Street who engaged in shady mortgage fraud and insider trading deals has a soul ... and weigh whether it's worth it to cook dinner?

There's something about fixing Sunday night dinner that I find particularly agitating. Even daunting, repulsive and annoying. And I'm a dude who loves to cook. I can't put my finger on exactly why I don't like to cook on Sundays. After shedding my pastor duties after church I tend to "check out." You might find me in the garage piddling around making a coffee table. Sometimes I nap. I might take a jaunt to the store and act like I'm shopping for the week's meals and blow it all on ice cream and non-essentials like fancy coffee creamer and crazy cheeses made in Holland. Does this make me a bad person?

I mean, I'm usually a pretty good guy. I recycle. I put my shopping cart in the cart corral in the parking lot instead of in the space next to the van, even in hard rains. I clean up the lint screen in the dryer. I yield in the traffic roundabout and stop for pedestrians trying to enter crosswalks. I buy Julie raspberries because I know she loves them even though they're really expensive this time of year. Really expensive like cheeses made in Holland.

So we got to Sunday afternoon just before 5 p.m. and there were all these kids looking really, really hungry. The thought actually crossed my mind to cook something. The other thought I had was that they wouldn't starve if they didn't have dinner. I mean, we have bread and peanut butter in the house. But then I'm not going to eat a p.b. & j sandwich for dinner ... so I was faced with what's known as a "parental dilemma." You know the one. Where you have to decide if it's in the best interests of your family to eat at Hardee's or Taco Bell. I had a hankering for a burrito so the choice was fairly easy.

I got the lowdown from everyone of what they wanted from Taco Bell, loaded Seth in the van and took off down the street ... except I glanced at the sky and it was on fire. It's a three-block run down to the beach from my house and my intention was that I would race down there while obeying all traffic laws, snap a sunset photo and then get to Taco Bell before my children suffered privation leading to acute starvation and other health-related issues.

I got to the beach, told Seth to sit tight, ran out to the shoreline, snapped a photo and ran back to the van. Piece of cake. Except I knew that the show was just beginning. It would be a monumental sunset because literally the sky was aflame ... so I fetched Seth out of the van and we frolicked on the beach while I documented our interlude via my iPhone. Yes, I had total disregard for the well-being of my family. Yes, I got a phone call from someone high up in the Sabo household who was surprised to learn I had not even made it out of the neighborhood.

But I got some killer clicks.

Seth gets photo-bombed by the sunset.

Ultimately, I made it to Taco Bell. No one in the Sabo house had starved. They appeared perplexed at how long it took for me to make a Taco Bell run considering it's literally a few minutes away. But hey, boy did Seth and I make some remembories, as Evie used to say when she was a little girl.