Feeling secure is a continuing struggle for me.  Like John Wesley, I often wonder how God could love me.  I’m aware of many failings, and now and then someone points out a failing that appears new to me!  There come moments of terror when I wonder if a particular crisis is the one that will break my faith, or I might wonder, given a set of circumstances, how my understanding of God could be even close to accurate.  If I cannot imagine the God I trust, then how can I feel secure in my trusting?

Then there are the end-of-the-rope experiences in pastoral ministry.  Being appointed as the second pastor of a new church is exciting right up until (for me at least) you realize that you are entering a parish with no church building, no parsonage, no committee structure, not many persons with local church leadership experience, and no recognition in the community.

It was not enough to realize that I had long dreamed of a storefront church setting.  That dream took on nightmarish qualities as Barb and I watched two squirrels scamper in and out of the corner of the warehouse as we waited while the Staff Parish Relations Committee met with the Superintendent!

I suppose that King David thought it only fair that God have a house, now that the King has been presented with one.  A roof over your head and space enough to rest secure!  Nathan thought it was fine, so why not? 

Yet God didn’t feel the need for the security of a house.  “Tenting Tonight” was more than a theme song.  What God did feel the need for was promising something big to David, who could be quite small at times.  God promised a house and kingdom forever (v. 16), a pledge to David has taken on immense importance over the generations.

I need periodic reminding that God is God, after all, and I am not.  I take courage in God’s divine sense of security, being and doing as Great Lover ought.  My place is to express my joy and gratitude for life by the way I respond to God’s word.  My sense of security has less to do with house and kingdom and more to do with the journeying with God that lies at the base of my relationship with God. 

I am challenged and comforted by the realization that David and countless others have lived life to its fullest because they have trusted God’s promise, God’s continuing willingness to be in connection with humanity.

I must admit, however, that I still don’t care to sleep in a tent.