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I want to share with you an exciting study I'm currently doing with my women's group at church.  It's called "Psalms of Ascent", and was written by Beth Moore.  She also leads the study weekly by video.  We meet in the children's gathering room in our church to view it and share our journey.  One thing Beth points out is that the Psalms contain expression for every emotion humans can experience.  This is what drew me to the study with such eagerness.

This first week we learned that this is a journey home.  When I first heard Beth's words on the video, I wanted to weep for joy.  I've just returned from a trip home to Southern California, having stopped in Mariposa to visit my sister and mom and brother-in-law.  That was truly a joyful reunion and a kind of homecoming, as we attended Easter Sunday service at their Baptist church.  I sang the old songs loud enough for Dad to hear all the way in heaven!  What a solidly faith-inspiring sermon it was too.  Later, my sister, my daughter, and I sang a trio, thrown together at the last minute but done well enough just the same to inspire many strong "Amen!"s from the worship leaders and others.  What a joy to offer such service with my family members! I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. (Ps. 122:1)

Then we drove on to visit my mother-in-law in Duarte, where she resides now in a Presbyterian nursing home.  It is a very nice home, and her care is excellent.  It was a wonderful visit, as she is much recovered from her spinal surgery of a year ago, at last. Yet still she is wheelchair bound, and does not go out doors much.  It was so beautiful there with the sun and everything blooming for all it's worth, but she could enjoy it only through a window, as the air was too chilly for her.  It was very good to see her doing so well.  She seems resigned to her situation, and content. In my trouble I cried to the Lord, and He answered me. (Ps. 120:1)

It was while sojourning there that I realized I was at home, as I haven't been since I left in 1986.  Then, I was full of the thrill of adventure, tired of the smog and the crowds and happy to find a new "home" north in Oregon.  Then, I was the prodigal, eschewing my Baptist heritage and all that goes with it, seeking my own brand of religion that would leave room for the outcasts and the less desirable (to some Christians) - but also looking for ways to have fun and more enjoyment of the good things in God's creation.  Was I simply rationalizing away guilt?  I don't know.  Deliver my soul, O Lord, from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue. (Ps. 120: 2)

I told myself always, "It's not that I don't want God.  I just don't want a lot of God's people."  This was ok to me, as I guess I thought I was better at being a Christian than they were, I'm sorry to admit.  Also, I wanted to protect myself from the kind of hurts I'd received at the hands of Christian sisters and brothers.  Never again, I told myself.  So I wandered from denomination to denomination, looking for a home, and sometimes attended no church at all. The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in... (Ps. 121: 7, 8a)

We learned this week that God wants us home, with Him, and that He is willing to do anything it takes to get us there. That sometimes means a whole lot of grief and pain for us until we realize we're heading the wrong way and turn around, toward home. When I realized I was at home again at last, in the dry, dry dust of Southern California, the light all around me as light should be, the temperature spring soft, as spring temperature should be, the mountains in the north, where mountains should be - when I realized that it was home, I could relax.  I was never so content and happy inside in all these 22 years.  Our feet are standing within your gates, oh Jerusalem! (Ps. 122: 2)

We are on a journey, we are pilgrims, as Beth told us.  We are like the pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem, to their home city: a religious law for them, one they apparently rejoiced to fulfill.  We are pilgrims, sojourners in a land we don't belong, striving to find home again.  But home is not on this earth.  For us, home is found only in God.  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help?  My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. (Ps. 121: 1,2)

 I have done a lot of things to keep myself sojourning in a place where people don't want peace, but war, don't want to rest in the knowledge of God's love for them, don't want to hear where they are perilously close to driving off the road, or stalled, or have a flat tire. The people I thought I'd minister to don't want to know.  In fact, they want me to lose my faith so much that they will do just about anything to bring it about.  When I talk of the peace of God, they talk of struggles with God's people, struggles with God's word, struggles with believing in anything worth believing.  I've found that often their unbelief is stronger than my belief, to my shame.  Sometimes these people actually reside in my own family, too.  Too long has my soul had its dwelling with those who hate peace.  I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war.  (Ps. 120: 6,7)

This week I learned I've been feeding my mind mainly negative, faith-defeating thoughts. Telling myself I was seeking information, I took in all kinds of dirt and low thinking, low talking ideas.  Telling myself I could filter out what wasn't wanted, I've exposed myself to the sharpest kind of anti-Christian, anti-faith, personalities, on a consistent basis.  I said to myself, "I will learn these people in order to minister to them better, I will learn a new kind of religion, one that can include these skeptics."  In turn, I was reworked into someone more like them.  While mouthing words like "more like the Master I would want to be", in actuality I was working to be more like the world.  I sought the approval of men before the approval of God, all the while telling myself I was doing ministry in the world.  Woe is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar! (Ps. 120: 5)

We are on a journey, a journey that leads us from the places we've settled in this world that we don't belong, to the place God has prepared for us where we do belong, with Him.  If we are not to wander off the right road, we must keep our 

eyes on the goal.  We must listen only to the voices that give the right directions.  We must follow the Leader, and not His impostors who would lead us into the wilderness and rob and abandon us.  God is calling me to follow Him home.  He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. (Ps. 121: 3)

I learned this week that the pilgrims to Jerusalem for the yearly feasts sang these Songs of Ascent, Psalms 120-134, in specific places along the way.  I've put my foot on the first step in the Temple, pulled the other one up next to it, put my foot in the next step.  I'm coming home, Lord, home where You want me, home where I belong, where You made me fit to dwell.  I'm leaving the places I've sojourned that keep me warring inside myself, and never allow Your peace to stay for very long.  

I've wandered far away from God,

Now I'm coming home.

The paths of sin too long I've trod,

Lord I'm coming home.

I've wasted many precious years,

Now I'm coming home;

I now repent with bitter tears,

Lord, I'm coming home.

I've tired of sin and straying, Lord,

Now I'm coming home;

I'll trust Thy love, believe Thy word,

Lord, I'm coming home.

My soul is sick, my heart is sore,

Now I'm coming home;

My strength renew, my hope restore,

Lord, I'm coming home.

Coming home,

Coming home,

Nevermore to roam.

Open wide Thine arms of love,

Lord, I'm coming home.

(Wm. J. Kirkpatrick)

What about you? Are you sojourning in a land far away from the home you were created for? Can you hear God's voice calling you home today? Why don't you come with me through the Psalms of Ascent? We can share our insights as we go along the road together, the road toward our heavenly home.  

Simply a matter of putting one foot in front of the other.  C'mon, let's go!

Simply yours,

Patty