We Fly Away
LORD, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations. Psalm 90:1
Read Psalm 90:1-10
Tomorrow will be the last day of this calendar year. At the end of a year, we can become melancholic as we realize that everything comes to an end. Things that happened in this past year do not return and cannot be undone. It is therefore good to reflect on the fleeting nature of life. You are still young, but before you know it, you will enter the next phase of life. We are rushing to the end of this year, but also to the end of our lives. What if tomorrow would be the last day of your life? Where would you be? Psalm 90 speaks about the brevity of our lives. Even if you would live to be seventy or eighty years old, which may seem like a long time, we all must fly away to our long home.
This psalm also speaks about the wrath of God against our sin. I presume you agree that God must be angry on account of our sins. Has this fact ever frightened you? Do you ever experience sleepless nights on account of this? The Lord regards all our iniquities, including our secret sins. Who then can stand before the Lord? Is there a place of refuge? The answer is also given in this same psalm. How amazing that the God who is angered by our sins will be a refuge for people in need. In fact, Psalm 90 encourages us to seek shelter without delay in the only Refuge for needy souls. Fly to Him, for then you are safe! He will be a refuge for every generation—also for young people today. The year has not yet come to an end. Your life has not come to an end. Tomorrow it may be too late.
Thought: What does the term and we fly away actually refer to?
Psalter 244:1,3 (based on Psalm 90) Lord, through all the generations, Of the children of our race, In our fears and tribulations, Thou hast been our dwelling place. Ere the vast and wide creation By Thy word was caused to be, Or the mountains had their station, Thou art God eternally. In Thy wrath our spirits languish, Sinful ‘neath Thy searching eye; All our days are passed in anguish, In Thy wrath we pine and die. Three-score years and ten we tarry, Four-score years the strong may stay, Long the load of grief to carry, Till at last we fly away.