He [is] the LORD our God: his judgments [are] in all the earth.
Psalm 105:7 King James Version (KJV)
A good breakfast. I enjoy sitting in a diner and having a nice omelette. It’s even better when served with a poppyseed bagel, toasted, that I slather with butter. Ummm. Good. I’ve often thought that if there were no place close by to have a good breakfast, I wasn’t meant to live there, and should move on.
An open Bible. Better than the breakfast is the Bible, open on the table before me. Reading it. And occasionally someone will comment, nicely, about this. Sometimes omeone will begin a conversation with me, which I thoroughly enjoy. I can only remember one time when someone laughed about my choice of morning reading. But, at several inches over six feet in height, it’s no wonder.
Today it’s BB’s Bagels. The diner is built to appear like a 1950s-style roadside diner. It’s often packed with people enjoying breakfast, or just a bagel and coffee. There are an endless variety of conversations to listen to, if I choose. The ceiling is low, painted panels, with a recessed channel the entire length made with stained wood strips. A row of lights illuminate the counter area. Tables with chairs and booths make up the remainder of the seating area. While in the American Fifties, the metal chairs would be chromed, here they are painted black, matching the torn, worn, Naugahyde-covered booths.
Looking out the window, I look out across an outdoor seating area. A breeze plays with newly sprouted leaves on the trees lining the road. The morning sun reflects from windshields and chrome on cars and trucks passing quickly headed to some destination I can only guess. If not for the style of vehicles, and the clothing worn by waitresses and customers, I could be back in America’s Baby Boomer year. From our perspective today, those were the “Good Ole Days.” Days of endless summer. Days filled with laughter. They were the days before, while in school, we practiced diving beneath our desks while the teachers pulled the blackout draperies across the wall of windows in our classroom. Before the “Cold War” that consumed us. That was before we learned about “Free Love.” That was before we learned to die in jungles a long way from home all the time questioning “What are we fighting for?”
We thought that hard work would always bring prosperity. That the Good always win, Evil always loses. We thought we were righteous, and we carried that thought in our actions around the world. We sent dollars to feed those less fortunate, less blessed. We sent missionaries to save a people who didn’t know the truth. We thought that would keep our economy growing.
But we were wrong. We thought we were immune to the judgements of a Holy and Triumphant G-d.
Sitting on the torn, worn Naugahyde-covered booth, looking out on a perfect day, having enjoyed my omelette and bagel, and a second cup of rich, bold coffee, I could easily forget the trials of a nation of people who think they “are all that. . .” That is to say, a nation of people who think they deserve the fruits of their labor. In churches across America, the cry is “Pray for our Nation.” We quote “If my people will humble themselves, pray. . .” and we think that will do it all. We think our economy will rebound and everything will be alright.
I think, rather, we should say, “We tried,” and follow that in humility, in honesty, saying, “But we tried on our own.” We need now to say, “The LORD is G-d and we kneel before the Lord Y’shuaJesus saying, “Come, Lord, Come!”
PS I walked out of the diner to an overcast sky. The cool, humid breeze feeling like a storm coming. Only a patch of blue left open to the sun, where it shined on the spot I could see from inside.
Lord Bless, Keep, Shine upon us that we may know You!