He brought me out to a spacious place; He rescued me because he delighted in me.” (2 Samuel 22:20)
I know I’ve been on a “David kick” for awhile. I can’t help it. His story is so compelling, so riveting and real. David’s humanness jumps off the pages of my Bible and causes me to deal… deal with my giants, my running … my God.
And I think I’m drawn to him because David was a writer. He fills his psalms with vivid images from battle and natural disaster … and joy. But, I wonder, how much of this is literal? Did David actually see the Lord “route the enemy” with lightning bolts like arrows? Did he honestly witness the “valleys of the sea laid bare” at the “rebuke of the Lord”? Was David really drowning when the Lord “reached down from on high, took hold of [him] and drew [him] out of the deep waters” (2 Sam. 22.15-17)?
Maybe, maybe not. Either way, after the years of running from his renegade, crown-usurping son, David must have felt relieved to be home in Jerusalem, secure from his enemies. He finally had a place to rest; finally a place to retire his “looking over my shoulder, wondering what lies around the corner” instinct.
So, after all the trials and tragedy, here’s what David knows about this place, Jerusalem, this City of Shalom.
• David knew it was the Lord’s doing that brought him here. Everything David enjoyed was a movement of God on his behalf. God’s strength, God’s victory, God’s help, God’s way… all led him here… to a spacious place of rest and provision.
• David knew he was rescued. He knew that he was completely dependent on God to act on his behalf… to draw him out of deep water, to support him when confronted by his enemies, to turn his darkness into light. David is not passive, but he is dependent. As one who is rescued, he knows his need.
• David knew that he was the object of God’s delight. He’s not God’s duty, not his project, not his anger, but God’s delight. God’s laughter. David knows he didn’t earn this position. It was a gift, grace, unmerited favor. God, in his joy, brought David to this place.
So here we are in a new place, Orlando, this city of Disney magic and palm trees. Can I truly rest here? Can I spread my arms, my concerns, my questions before the Lord and know his rescue and his delight?
With all the traffic and busyness, all the demands of school and grocery shopping and apartment living, I know I’ll experience the “spaciousness” metaphorically, not literally. But, I do sense that this is what he wants to give us … space.
Many times, I think God’s direction would be easier to follow if he would literally lay the seas open bare and breath fire before me… scary, but easier. Well maybe. I want to know God’s intention in bringing us here. I want to increase my dependence on him and experience his delight in me. I think I will see those things through the eyes of faith. Eyes that know the conviction of things hoped for and the assurance of things not seen. (Heb. 11:1)
May I learn to see that way.
O Father, may we enter into the space you have provided, walk the path you’ve laid out before us. Can you make it clear and well-lit? But even if it’s not, we will trust you in the darkness.
And Father, along the way, let us hear your laughter, the song of your delight.