Day 79: 1 Kings 1:1–4

Now King David was old and getting on in years. Although they covered him with bedclothes, he could not get warm (v. 1).

I am saddened by the initial words of 1 Kings. The words suggest the inevitable to us. One of the most well-documented lives in history was hastening to an end. Our David? The one who had killed a lion and a bear? The one who had thundered the ground with the frame of an overgrown Philistine? The one who had made caves his bed and had stolen the spear of a savage king? The one who had conquered nations and called on the might of heaven? I am almost shocked by his sudden mortality. As he lay chilled beneath the weight of heavy blankets, we realize his humanity and his frailty.

By the standards of his day, David was not an extremely old man. He was approaching his death at a far younger age than the patriarchs who preceded him. Perhaps his seventy years of active living could easily compare to one hundred years of simply being alive. He had known virtually every extremity of the human experience—unparalleled success, unabashed rebellion, unashamed mourning, and uninhibited celebration. Life rarely free of extremity can be life rarely free of anxiety. It takes its toll.

Much of my life has been lived in the extremes. I seem to find myself in the valley or on the mountain as often as in between. Some years ago God led me to express on paper my responses to the extremities of life. I’d like to share these words with you.

Satisfy me not with the lesser of You

Find me no solace in shadows of the True

No ordinary measure of extraordinary means

The depth, the length, the breadth of You

And nothing in between.

Etch these words upon my heart, knowing all the while

No ordinary roadblocks plague extraordinary miles

Your power as my portion, Your glory as my fare

Take me to extremities,

But meet me fully there.