It was an accident, I think, that allowed squiggles to appear all over my e-books: with current settings, I can see the sentences that were favorites of former readers. And now, well, it’s an inside-out peer-pressure that compels me to underline all of the unloved lines that people haven’t touched.
With this (obviously) intellectual and (clearly) literary mindset, I highlighted these words from Charles Spurgeon’s commentary on Psalm 19:
“Thus praise and prayer are mingled, and he who here sings the work of God in the world without, pleads for a work of grace in himself within.”
Mingle. I looked up the word in Webster’s dictionary (and was immediately distracted by the subsequent entry, mingle-mangle, but): to mingle is to mix, to knead together separate pieces until they became one, without the original elements losing their fundamental identities. This notion of mingling is the thesis Spurgeon lays out for Psalm 19, and it has made me look at the passage as though it were a funnel.
On the wide end, toss in what David sees and celebrates: the world God has created, the Word which shows His grace, the praise that comes as a response to those external aspects of nature which stir the senses. Add David’s prayer from deep inside, a plea with the Lord to work in his heart, to affect his words. Let these elements filter through the funnel and drip onto the page.
“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork… O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.”
“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork,” verse 1, concludes with intimacy, “O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer,” in 14. It’s a mingling which cannot be untangled from the God who not only creates; He saves.
“It began with the heavens, but it ends with Him whose glory fills heaven and earth. Blessed Kinsman, give us now to meditate acceptably upon Thy most sweet love and tenderness.”