Psalm 127

Psalm 127

A song of ascents. Of Solomon.

Unless the Lord builds the house,
its builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the watchmen stand guard in vain.

In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Sons are a heritage from the Lord,
children a reward from him.
Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are sons born in one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their enemies in the gate.
(NIV)

An elderly friend of mine went in for surgery. A large tumor had developed on his frontal lobe, right under his forehead. Before the surgery, my friend quoted this psalm to the doctors and told them that unless God healed him, they labored in vain. Then he asked them to give him half an hour so that he could pray. By the time of his surgery, he was calm and collected, entirely trusting in God to use the doctors to heal him. One year later, he is cancer free and healthy. He can't stop praising
God for what GOD did.

My sense after reading this psalm is that God continually holds together the very fabric of our existence in such a way that our actions would be completely futile were it not for God's providential care which makes the actualization of our wills possible. This doesn't do Psalm 127 justice. I'll keep thinking about it.