Saturday, March 4, 2017

Psalm 43


So was the writer who crafted Psalm 43.

She turned to God for light and truth, and hope, in the midst of her depression ...

But she's an honest writers, and begins downcast, and ends much the same, with a reminder to herself, like string tied on a finger, "Hope in God."

Call it sadness, call it gloom, call it doom ... there are times when life and history and circumstance move in these circles, and all is lost. It just doesn't SEEM lost; it IS lost.

And the appropriate response?

Sorrow. Despair. Depression. Grief.

Nothing wrong with any of this. These are not clinical issues that need medication or therapy - no, they are a legitimate response to the realities of life.

I'm grateful for these "darker" kinds of Psalms, their heart-wrenching honesty, their willingness to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, to linger in the hard places, not with gladness, or some kind of feigned happiness, but with a determination to be where life has to be sometimes, with the assurance, perhaps weak and frail as such assurance might be at times, that the LORD is there, too ... walking, crawling, or just standing at our side ... going nowhere, or somewhere, very slowly.

These days, I'm sad ... not for anything personal, or beyond the usual concerns and frets of life and family.

No, I'm sad for my nation, for millions who are being shafted by the brutal powers of greed and a lot of shitty thinking on the part of a lot of christians who are more interested in lauding Pilate than in honoring Christ.

Is that a fair thing to say?

Who knows, but it's how I see it.

And it wouldn't be the first time christians have choose Pilate over Christ. Not the first time, and not likely the last time, either.

So, I'm sad.



And I turn to God ... not expecting miracles, or some kind of dramatic deliverance, but maybe, like the Psalmist, hoping for some light and truth to lead the way.

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