The Buzzard, the Bat, and the Bumblebee

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore. (Psalm 121 ESV). If you put a buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of ten or twelve feet. Without space to run, as is his habit, he will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top. The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkably nimble creature in the air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground, all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash. A bumblebee if dropped into an open tumbler will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself. In many ways, there are lots of people like the buzzard, the bat, and the bee. They are struggling about with all their problems and frustrations, not realizing that the answer is right there above them. Our best source of help is just above us, but we need to look up and ask. Our reading today is one of the most often quoted psalms. However, I am afraid that it is also one of the least applied! Annie Johnson Flint has written the following poem, New Every Morning: Yea, “new every morning,” though we may awake, Our hearts with old sorrow beginning to ache; With old work unfinished when night stayed our hand With new duties waiting, unknown and unplanned; With old care still pressing, to fret and to vex, With new problems rising, our minds to perplex In ways long familiar, in paths yet untrod, Oh, new every morning the mercies of God! His faithfulness fails not; it meets each new day New guidance for every new step of the way; New grace for new trials, new trust for old fears, New patience for bearing the wrongs of the years, New strength for new burdens, new courage for old, New faith for whatever the day may unfold; As fresh for each need as the dew on the sod; Oh, new every morning the mercies of God!