Two-Minute Manna

“I shall yet praise Him” doesn’t mean “someday I’m going to praise Him,” or “someday I’ll be able to look back and honor Him.” No, the Hebrew language is clear that the psalmist would praise God presently.

This is so powerful and so practical. Even as he’s working through his own emotional difficulty, the psalmist says, “Here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to hope in God - absolutely expecting things are going to work out for my good and His glory. I’m going to talk to God. I’m going to be honest with the Lord. He knows what I’m thinking, anyway. So I’m just going to tell Him when I feel forgotten.”

The psalmist hopes in God. He talks to God. And he praises God. It is so important that we learn to be people who praise God. It was one thing when Miriam and the congregation of Israel praised the Lord after they were delivered from the oncoming Egyptians (Exodus 15). But how much better it would have been had they praised God before the Red Sea parted. The key is to say, “Lord, even though I don’t see how this is going to work out, I know You’ll never leave me nor forsake me. And I know that all things work together for good for me. Therefore, I’m going to praise You in advance.”

When Silas and Paul were in the Philippian prison at midnight praising the Lord, an earthquake jolted the doors open. Assuming all the prisoners had fled, the jailer was about to take his life when Paul said, “Wait a minute. We’re all here” (Acts 16). Why had no one left? I suggest it was because the other prisoners saw something in Paul and Silas that so intrigued them that they wanted to stick around and see how it all played out. They wanted to be free like Paul and Silas were - not only externally but, more important, internally.

That’s what happens in our lives as well. When we say, “I’m going to hope in You, Lord,” the imprisoned world around us takes note and is drawn to Him.

Before the Red Sea parts and before the prison doors open is your moment for greatness. Don’t miss it.