Elisabeth Adams

Since I last wrote, I’ve played the waiting game:

What will the nations do about Syria? What will happen to Israel in response?

And as I waited, I was reading the book of Jeremiah, which immersed me in descriptions of ancient war and destruction and suffering. I thought, This is not what I need to read right now!

But as the news spun out, and the nations of the world showed clearly that they had no solution, I realized that what I had read was just right.

The Bible makes it plain that God is capable of dealing with nations. He rules in the affairs of men. His response is never too much or too little, and He’s always exactly on time.

Not all of us live near hostile nations, but we’ve all had to sit through crisis and fear and pain and loss. Just the date — September 11 — expresses all that and more for the United States.

An Israeli friend introduced me to a song in Hebrew which I find very poignant, because it seems to express Israel’s sense of isolation in a hostile world — or at least a world that doesn’t understand what makes them unique, what animates them and gives them vision. I think many Israelis themselves wonder the same thing. Who are we? they ask. And who will help us?

It’s a question, perhaps, that my own nation is pondering as well.

It’s a question that comes straight from Psalm 121: I lift up my eyes to the hills. From whence comes my help?

 “Arim Roshi” by Shai Gabso

Now I’m walking on the path of the present
Like a boy who has gotten lost:
My palms outstretched, asking for help to continue the journey with you. [ie the nation]

On the sides, the flowers look like they have lost their identity,
Seeking another ray of light that will help,
A sip of water from the springs of wisdom that will bring them hope.

I’ll lift my head, lift my eyes to the distant mountains
And my voice will sound like a cry, like mankind’s prayer
And my heart will call, “From whence comes my help?”

I’m passing now through new landscapes,
My steps are becoming so slow.
“What’s there that’s not here?” asks a passerby.
“What’s inside the heart you protect?”

The town elder, with his whole past on his back,
Looks around, seeking the world that’s his.
When the present is so hard, I won’t say a word.
I’ll lift my head towards tomorrow.

I’ll lift my head, lift my eyes to the distant mountains
And my voice will sound like a cry, like mankind’s prayer
And my heart will call, “From whence comes my help?”

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

This I recall to my mind, and therefore I have hope:
the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,
His mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning.
GREAT is Your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in Him.”

In fact, He says that is good for us to be forced to wait on Him.

It is good for me. It is good for Israel. It is good for my own nation, and for yours.