I have made a decision about my last will and testament.  When I pass, and my white-haired head is resting on that velvet pillow, I want my wife to make sure there is a guitar pick in the front pocket of my pants. 

Mostly because there has been one there since the summer of 1966 – the year I started strumming.  From then on, I required myself to always have a pick in my pocket. (which is not the same as a pick pocket)

Why?  Well, you never know when you might find yourself in a music store needing to try out a new guitar.  Or you might be visiting a friend who offers to let you play on his.  

There have been times I have been sitting around a campfire and someone puts a guitar in my hand and asks me to play “Michael Row the Boat Ashore.”   Michael could have been swept out to sea if not for my guitar pick.

Sometimes it became a conversation starter.  I have pulled change from my pocket and among the coins would be my pick.  The cashier would see it and probe, “Oh do you play the guitar?”  “And tamping down my ego I would say, “Yes I do.”

In fact, my pick compensated for what I lacked in the good-looks department.  My guitar pick said that I was a guitar player and that was enough to capture a girl’s heart.

Picks can be a nuisance.  They come flying out when I pull my car keys from my pocket.  I buy snow-white picks only so that I can spot them on the ground. 

And they get worn.  I got to where I buy them by the gross – 144 at a time. 

Sometimes they travel with my pants into the wash and my wife finds them flying around the dryer.

And yet during those 57 years, I have always and perpetually had a guitar pick on my person.  Just test me the next time you see me. 

I know it’s silly, but always having a pick in my pocket brings me comfort.

What I find even more comforting is knowing that God has me in His pocket.

What? You ask.  OK let me explain.  Psalm 60 tells of a time of great trouble for Israel. David, the author complained to God in verses 1-6 of the nations that were on a seek and destroy mission regarding the nation.

The Lord answered in verses 7-8.  He said, “Gilead belongs to me, as does Manasseh. Ephraim is my helmet, Judah my royal scepter.” NETBible ®

He spoke of the various regions that made up Israel reminding David that He treasured His people who lived there.

Gilead was beyond the Jordan River.  Her people lived on the outer limits of the land.  They were the next-door neighbors to the Ammonites, and Moabites and the other irksome “ites” of the land. 

I’d bet they sometimes felt marginalized and often ignored by their countrymen and maybe even the Lord.  But the Lord said, “Gilead belongs to me.”

Eugene Peterson decided that the translation didn’t fully capture the richness behind the statement, so he rendered it this way in the MESSAGE.  He said, “Gilead’s in my pocket.”

I love it.  How special – how secure – how ever present. God’s people in Gilead were safely tucked away deep down in the pocket of God.  As are we – safely tucked away deep down in the pocket of God.

The metaphor captures much.  It brings to mind words like, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”  (Hebrews 13:5) and “I am with you always even unto the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20) and “The Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)   Like my pick – perpetually there.

So, settle down and get comfortable in God’s pocket.  It is a place of supreme security.  And if you happen to find a guitar pick down there – it’s probably mine.

A PRAYER: Lord we also seem to live beyond the Jordan as well. Watch over us.

This has been Jim Johnson and pickleheavenpress.com

May the grace of our Lord Jesus be with you.