God STILL Inhabits My Praise

Do you ever struggle with finding a reason to praise God?

Struggles fill our lives.

Whether at home, at work, physically, or mentally, we all have days … or years … when praising God for something takes thought.

Four years ago, a malady of the same proportion as COVID hit my world. First an illness struck my body, bringing weariness I’d never experienced since a bout of mononucleosis in high school. Apparently, that was the culprit. A dormant virus left in my body from the mono activated and sapped my strength, energy, and stamina. I struggled to get up in the morning, only to lie back down for a nap around 9 a.m., often sleeping into the afternoon. For a year, I dealt with repercussions from it.

During that time, my 81-year-old uncle who lived on our property began spiraling mentally. I took on caregiving while needing a caregiver myself. From thinking a circus was in our yard to seeing faces on his walls, this previously healthy man went from hiking with his dog every week at a local park to hiding out in his trailer. Eighteen months later, he died after complications from a fall put him in the hospital, which then transferred him to a rehab/long-term nursing facility over two hours away. He was alone, and I was sick and couldn’t get to him.

The Overwhelm

Guilt and grief warred with the stress of tending to his end-of-life paperwork and more, all while still trying to regain an iota of my former vigor. About that time, one daughter’s marriage fell apart, and another daughter’s family was displaced when the home they lived in with my 78-year-old mother flooded in a freak culvert issue. They had to be evacuated by boat at 2 a.m.—my mom, her three dogs, our daughter, her husband, and our grandchildren – a two-year-old and an infant.

No sooner did life seem to settle than our third daughter dealt with a very serious health issue that truly scared me. Stressors added and added. Our furnace went out, costing a whopping $9,000 to replace, and that was after my husband replaced our water pump twice. When we got through that, my husband’s physical health took a hit.

Praise God?

I wanted to scream at Him, stomp my feet, throw something. But I kept going … if not praising exactly for who He is, at least thanking Him for getting us through each crisis.

And that brings me to the past few months. Once again, strange maladies have attacked my brain and body, causing me to stop driving for safety’s sake. Even the week in July at my favorite place, a writer’s conference I attend every summer, went by while I slept or tried to focus my foggy brain during the two workshops I attended. The shared mealtimes failed to bring me my usual joy.

Two weeks after the conference, my mom (now 81) went in the hospital for the fourth time in three weeks. Finding rides to and from the hospital and staying at her house to tend her dogs filled my days. When I could, I sat in her hospital room fighting tears of frustration. In the following weeks, while she recovered at home and regained strength to handle daily tasks, I felt in limbo … waiting for the next fallout.

After returning home, I spent the first days staring at the walls, hardly daring to breathe. And then … COVID knocked me flat. This time, I cried.

During my devotional time the week after the virus hit, I fought off tears because the oak tree’s leaves would soon be falling, and, through different circumstances, our youngest grandchildren wouldn’t be able to come jump in them. Maybe a silly thing to be saddened over, but I’d looked forward to watching them playing in our yard, woods, and creek. Now, it wouldn’t happen.

Then, the Holy Spirit brought to mind a Scripture, basically saying thus: “The Lord inhabits the praises of His people” (Psalm 22:3).

And time slipped backward.

I was a young mother, trying to keep our home and family going. The cupboards and fridge held only the makings for a meal or two, not enough for a family of four with two young daughters. Unopened envelopes stacked on the counter held unpaid bills. The car sat with fumes in the tank. We’d need to borrow gas from the lawnmower to get to the gas station. The bank account? Well, its new low almost equaled the play money in our daughter’s purse.

How would we feed the girls until Kevin’s next paycheck? His check only covered the basic bills, not the medical ones racked up with my recent ER visit. My babysitting helped with food, but the family I babysat for was a few weeks behind in paying me.

Then a Nudge

An idea from a seminar nudged its way into my overwhelmed brain, something about praising God for our bills. At the time, I’d said, “WHAT??!!” Why would I praise Him for medical bills for a diagnosis I hadn’t even had? Sure, for the electric bill; being wintertime, lights were necessary and welcome.

Shrugging my shoulders, I said aloud, “Okay, God, if You want me to thank you for my bills, I will.” I organized the stacks and found my budget. I laid them all out on the table. “Lord, I thank You for the electric bill so we can have lights to read by. I thank You for the oil bill for the heat we need right now.” I thanked Him for our rent payment because we felt blessed to live on this rural property with wonderful landlords. When I got to the medical ones, though, I had to become a bit creative. “Um … thank You, Lord, for this bill for the ER because … they’re open 24 hours. And thank You for the MRI bill because it showed I might or might not have MS, and that’s better than a definite do have.” I did the same for all eight or nine of the medical bills. By the time I was done, I felt strange … hopeful?

At that time, I didn’t know the Scripture about God inhabiting our praises, but I found out over the next week how thanking Him for our bills—every one of them—would pan out. Not only did my husband get a raise on his hourly rate, but his employer included back pay and a bonus that usually only came once a year. My uncle paid Kevin for work he’d done with him months before. And the mail on Friday brought our income tax refund, almost a month earlier than we expected it!

Back to the Present

Sitting in my rocking chair as the memories faded, I put two and two together and came up with five! With the Scripture in mind, I started praising God. I praised Him for grandchildren who were healthy enough to run and jump in leaves, who had eyes to see the colors of the leaves. I thanked Him for the oldest ones who had been able to come before circumstances changed. A smile appeared as I remembered our granddaughter throwing leaves in the air as our dog romped in the pile with her. And our grandsons taking a half-football-field lead to run for the pile, screaming the whole way! My mood lightened as I felt His presence.

As He did years ago, God inhabited those praises and then, He stayed around long enough to bring me several unique joys to start my day on a better note. Our oldest daughter, who’d begun homeschooling this year, sent me photos of our two youngest grandkids playing at a playground during an impromptu stop. She sent a photo of a book about a bird that she’d found in a library share box and another of a bunch of killdeer in the field by the play area. The best part about that? They’re doing a bird unit study! I literally laughed aloud at God’s serendipity as He blessed them and, in turn, blessed me … as He inhabited my praises!

A Suggestion

As life’s trials toss our lives about, we long to feel God’s presence. Even if you don’t feel like it, send up a few praises, maybe simply thanking Him for a roof over your head. He promises in His Word that He is there in your praise. Then, pay attention and see if God doesn’t stick around a bit and bless your socks off!