“I waited . . .” writes David. I don’t like waiting.
To wait is to sacrifice your will to the will of another.

“I waited and waited for the Lord . . . he put a new song in my mouth.”
Four times in the Psalms we’re commanded to sing a new song.
But you can’t just write a new song; you must wait for a new song.
It comes from beyond you.

A new song is anything creative that you might do, and a new song is a new you.
It seems that the best songs are written by people who are forced to wait, by people who suffer, by people forced to surrender control.
David experienced great success and the most humiliating defeats—but “there in those caves, drowned in the sorrow of his song, and in the song of his sorrow, David very simply became the greatest hymn writer, and the greatest comforter of broken hearts this world shall ever know” (Gene Edwards).

You are commanded to sing a new song. All creation does sing, and will sing, a new song (Rev. 5). It’s a symphony, of which your song is an integral, unique, and irreplaceable part.

To sing a new song is to surrender to the one that is singing you.
To sing a new song, you must wait . . . on the Lord.

All sin is refusing to wait for the Lord.
And perhaps the worst sin is pretending that the things we do apart from the Lord are the Lord—we often call this “religion.”
Spoiled children can’t wait. Spoiled children are miserable children who have lost their ability to sing, for they can no longer perceive Grace.

At one point, Jesus healed everyone he met.
In the end, he didn’t even heal himself . . . but he was healing everyone—not just one body, but everybody, for everybody is One Body.
He is the Will of God, Logos of God, and the Song of God.
In the garden he prayed “not my will but thine be done.”
And on the tree, he cried “into your hands I commit my Spirit.”
He told us “I am the root and the descendant of David” (Rev. 22:16).

“He put a new song in my mouth,” writes David. “In sacrifice and offering you have not delighted. But ears you have dug for me.”

If at the end of seven years—when Hebrew slaves were to be set free—a slave declared that he loved his master and desired to do his will, his master was to “dig a hole” in his earlobe with an awl.
It was a sign to all: this slave freely wills to sacrifice his will to that of his master.
Jesus took the form of a slave and only did what he saw his master—his Father—doing. He was a slave and entirely free.

The author of Hebrews claims that when Christ came into the world, he quoted Psalm 40 . . . but with a fascinating twist.
He said, “in sacrifice and offering you have not delighted, but a body you have prepared for me,” rather than “ears you have dug for me.”
What body was he referring to?

It must be the one we nailed to the tree, and also the body of David who wrote this Psalm, and also the body of Christ—which is us! For this is “[the] plan for the fullness of time, to unite [anakephalaio: to bring together under one head] all things in him” (Eph. 1:10).

Heaven is a symphony of songs, just as a body is a symphony of sacrifice.
We all want heaven (we think . . . ), but we’re terrified to sacrifice.
We don’t believe that on the other side of the flaming sword, consuming fire, drawn curtain, and judgment seat of God, all things are made new (Rev. 21:5).
We’re terrified to sacrifice. We’re terrified to lose our lives and find them. We’re terrified to bleed the river of Life. We’re terrified of Love—who is God.

Jesus is the Will of Love and the Will to Love; he is the Song of Love.

The Greeks had a legend that Amphion, a son of Zeus, built Thebes with the sound of his lyre. He played and the stones danced themselves into place.
That’s not actually how Thebes was built, but it is how the New Jerusalem is built.

The new you is a new song, and Heaven is a symphony of songs.
But to sing the new song . . . you must learn to wait.

The sound of an orchestra playing a symphony is the sound of musicians who have learned to wait, who have surrendered their will to the will of the conductor and the will of all. People, who can’t hear, think it’s bondage; but it’s beauty, life, and freedom.

Psalm 40:1 “I waited patiently for the Lord . . .”
Psalm 40:3 “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.”
Psalm 40:8 “I desire to do your will, O my God, your law is in my gut.”

His body is broken for you. His blood is shed for you. Put it in your gut . . . and just you wait!

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