What’re friends fer but to go to?”
–Zane Grey (The Mysterious Rider)
“If you fall, your friend can help you up. But if you fall without having a friend nearby, you are really in trouble.”
–Ecclesiastes 4:10(CEV)
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The blahs, the mulligrubs, and how about the mubblefubbles, they come to us all from time to time, and for various reasons. They may come because of the weather, an issue that has to be faced or was faced, or the failure in a person’s life because of sin. I know the feeling; at times I awaken from my peaceful nightly slumber, walk to the bathroom, then look in the mirror. Not horror, but I am confronted by the image of an old fence post, splinters, edges worn, cracks in the wood, and quickly, if not careful and not leaning on the Holy Spirit, spiritual blahs can set the tone for the day.
Perhaps you get up, and you feel like a Mack truck has smashed into you and run you over, physically and/or spiritually. You moan and groan, and try to pick yourself up from the pavement of life. While you are doing that may I remind you of the words of Paul, “Now in the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know what to pray for as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26, NASB) Make those groanings into an altar, moan then with reverence.
Maybe your day has started out well. You’re singing a song as you walk along and some of you might feel so good that you’re ready to tip-toe through the tulips (or at least clog in the kitchen). Then you slip. Down the muddy bank you slide right into the much of “Pilgrim’s” slough of despond. The slime covers you, the quicksand of despair and evil holds you and tries to suck you deeper into the slough, the stink of the bog already reeking in your nostrils. No hope, no help–woe is you. I will tell you friend, look up. There is a nail-scarred hand reaching down. Hope, relief, redemption is there–just grasp the hand.
My mind goes to Samson. What comes to your mind when you first hear the name? Strength? Deliah? Failure? Here was a man, chosen by God to be a judge over Israel. A valiant man, a man of unparalleled strength when the Spirit came on him, but also a weak man who could not control his passions and lusts. Gary Inrig points out, “He was a man with a passion for freedom in the middle of a society committed to compromise.” With his faults, with his failures, he was a fighter. No one came to his aid, and in fact, his own people bound him and gave him over to the enemy. Compromise? More like treason. We know of his failures, of his flirting with disaster and eventually weakening, but for a moment, think of the possible times of victory in his mind. There are a couple of verses we often overlook when reading about Samson and they are important for they say the same thing. When that happens in Scripture we ought to take notice. The first is Judges 15:20, “And he judged Israel twenty years in the days of the Philistines.” It is repeated in Judges 16:31, “He had judged Israel twenty years.”
In the midst of the enemy, he judged. Twenty years mind you. We know almost nothing of the events of those twenty years except some exploits by Samson. Yet he was a judge, there must have been some victories, some reason for the Lord to put him in that position for so many years. Perhaps we get a glimpse on it in Hebrews, “For the time would fail me to tell of …Samson…who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.” (11:32-24, NKJV) Whew! Is that enough to get our attention? In the midst of the enemy, Samson judged. I wonder, perhaps could Samson have flitted through David’s mind when he penned, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” (Psalm 23:5)
So when the blahs, the mulligrubs, and even the mubblefubbles come, when the moans and groans come, when you find yourself in the stinking slime of despondency remember… Again I say remember,
“Oh yes, oh yes, I’m a child of the King,
His royal blood now flows in my veins,
And I, who was wretched and poor, now can sing–
Praise God, Praise God
I’m a child of the King.”
–Cindy Walker