The Measure You Use

Songs about counting blessings can sound patently glib. Yet there’s a lot of truth to their advice. When trouble comes, counting can become a weapon.

Jesus warned us in John 16:33 to expect tribulations, so we don’t often have a choice about what form they will take. We can, however,choose how we’ll respond to them.

It’s normal and healthy to acknowledge the trouble we’re facing, but have you ever gotten stuck adding all your problems together? “This happened. Then that. And on top of everything else, I still have to deal with this!” Woe is us—sometimes we could fill a spreadsheet with our concerns.

Jesus tells us in Luke 6:38, “with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.” We generally think of this verse in terms of giving, but what if it’s true about all aspects of our lives? What if the measure we use for determining the size of our troubles is the measure of discontent we harvest? On the other hand, what if the measure we use to consider God’s power, wisdom and love for us determines how much peace, composure and comfort we experience?

It isn’t difficult to measure our afflictions with a large scoop—spending our days sizing up the height and depth and breadth of each one. Unfortunately, over-measuring our trouble can leave us overwhelmed. The larger the measuring cup we use to weigh God’s goodness and faithfulness, the more hope and possibilities fill our hearts. As we search to identify more ways we can and do trust God, we reignite and strengthen our faith.

What comes after “but”?

But where in the conversation (or our prayer) should we locate our tally of appreciation?

If we count up our troubles after we speak our faith, negative thoughts hang in the air when we’re done like the smell of cigarettes after a smoke. They cling to us as we go our way, carrying the odor of worry and anxiety. It’s important to cry out to God when distress unsettles us, but if we finish those sessions with a generous dose of praise, the aroma that lingers will be one of hope.

David used this arrangement in many of his Psalms. In Psalm 59, for example, he began by pouring out his complaint about his enemies in verses 6–7: “At evening they return, they growl like a dog. . . . they belch with their mouth; swords are in their lips. . . . ”

He was wise enough not to stop there, however. He added a “but”in verse 8 and dug for faith with a larger shovel. “But You, O Lord, shall laugh at them; You shall have all the nations in derision. I will wait for You, O You his Strength; for God is my defense” (vs 8–10).

His situation was so distressing, he felt the need to repeat the process in verses 14–17. “At evening they return, they growl like a dog, and go all around the city. . . . But I will sing of Your power; yes, I will sing aloud of Your mercy in the morning. . . .”

Read Psalm 77 to see how Asaph followed David’s example. After enumerating his woes, he added his own “but” in verse 10, following it with a measure of praise so large it went on to the end of the psalm.

Sticking long enough with praise after our “but” can be a battle. In Matthew 11:12, however, Jesus told us the violent might have to take heaven by force. If we have to reach and clutch and grab for ways to praise God, let’s do it. Scoop after scoop, let’s recount what we know is true about God, until our hearts believe what our lips are saying and faith cradles us in rest.