It's one of my favorite Psalms: How lovely are Your dwelling places, O LORD of hosts! (Psalm 84).
As I read through all of the places the writer longs to dwell--all those places where the LORD is walking--I see: courts, altars, Zion, His house. But this morning only one stands out: the valley of Baca.
The word Baca means weeping, and the writer speaks of passing through its valley. Why Baca? What I learn about this place leads me to the Selah; the moment of pause the writer often calls for.
The traveler in pursuit of the Glory-walker pulls his strength from his walks along the Zion victory road, but he doesn't dismiss the thought of walking through the valleys without the gain of strength there as well. Why? Because he makes his weeping-tears into a spring. He doesn't waste the valleys, but chooses to make something out of his sorrow-steps. And then he watches as the early rains cover those springs with blessings from the Father. The blessing-tears move him from strength to strength, eventually bringing him to the praising-streets of Zion.
That's why he can later say: I would rather stand on the outside looking into Your dwelling places than dwell on the inside of all that is wicked. He knows that even though the valley-walks are hard to pass through, and the springs gatherings are full of heavy valley-burdens, the LORD of hosts dwells in those places with grace and glory, and He withholds nothing for those who choose the harder steps.
I trust these words.
I stand at the threshold looking in and I still say Yes to the valleys.
I wrap my fingers tightly around the grip of my shield and with faith I gather all I will need to make a spring, because there will be others passing through this valley who will be thirsty.
Oh Father, do not let me waste these tears.
