O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out to you by day. I come to you at night. Now hear my prayer; listen to my cry. For my life is full of troubles, and death draws near. [Psalm 88:1-3 (NLT)]
I woke to yet another cold dreary winter day. Troubled by a variety of concerns and hoping to improve my glum mood, I turned to Psalms. Unfortunately, I made a bad choice in Psalm 88. Written by Heman the Ezrahite, I saw that originally it was to be sung to the tune “The Suffering of Affliction” (which should have been my clue to read no further).
During David’s time, Heman was one of three chief Levites appointed to conduct music in the tabernacle (the equivalent of today’s worship leader). Perhaps he wrote this psalm to console David in his sorrow after the loss of his son but there seems to be nothing consoling about it. The speaker’s life is full of troubles; he considers himself a lost cause and as good as dead. Repulsive and depressed, he’s been forgotten by his friends, feels God’s anger, and asks God why he’s been rejected. Typically, psalms of lament eventually turn from despair to hope and from misery to confidence but there’s not even a glimmer of hope in this one! “Darkness is my closest friend,” are the psalmist’s final words. Although the RSV Bible subtitles the psalm a “Prayer for Help in Despondency,” a far better title would be “Job’s Lament!”
Later that morning, we attended worship at our northern church. The service, an Advent tradition there, was a celebration of the beautiful music of the Christmas season. As I listened to the words of the carols, my spirits lifted. Unlike Heman, this was a worship leader who knew what songs would help the despondent.
With my improved outlook, I thought back to that mournful psalm and realized that, as miserable and depressed as the psalmist was, he hadn’t given up on God. His words were honest—he was wretched and desolate—and yet he knew God heard his complaint. Even though he felt abandoned, he continued to pray which means he knew he hadn’t been forsaken. In fact, knowing his words were not falling on deaf ears, he vowed to continue his prayers. He knew that tears and prayers go together—that his troubles were a reason to talk with God rather than a reason to stop praying
It was the words of John 3:16 that made me finally understand that the sorrowful psalm and the joyful carols were telling me the same thing. No matter how wretched we feel, no matter how distressing our situation, no matter how severe our suffering, we are loved. Unfortunately, faith is no protection from trouble and sometimes we will sink in sorrow. Nevertheless, like the psalmist, we can remain earnest in prayer. Knowing that God loved us enough to give us His only son, we can know He loves us enough to hear our prayers. Even when we feel abandoned, God is with us; Immanuel is His name.
Those who are in trouble of mind may sing this psalm [Psalm 88] feelingly; those that are not ought to sing it thankfully, blessing God that it is not their case. [Matthew Henry]
For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. [John 3:16 (NLT)]
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My arms were filled with precariously piled packages as I trudged through the mall parking lot. Thinking it was the perfect time to test the easy tailgate feature on our new SUV, I kicked my foot forward under the car’s rear bumper expecting it to magically open. Perhaps it was the trailer hitch or that my legs are too short, but the sensor didn’t work and the trunk lid remained closed. After trying several more times, it became clear that, in spite of the car’s promise, I was not going to open the tailgate while holding armloads of anything! It was when I tried to find the keys in my purse that my pile of holiday gifts tumbled every which way. On the plus side, my arms were finally free to lift the tailgate!
It was a dreary winter day when the entire congregation exited the church into a weed-filled field. Like the Israelites, we were armed with horns, only ours were those silly blowout noisemakers seen at children’s birthday parties. Silently, we marched until we’d circled the muddy patch of ground seven times. Anyone observing us from the highway surely thought us foolish as we raised those noisemakers to our lips, blew hard and then cheered. Unlike the Israelites who marched around Jericho so God would knock down walls, we marched around that field to show our faith that God would erect walls for us!
After scrutinizing the website for the umpteenth time in a futile search for the perfect gift for my daughter-in-law, I closed the iPad and announced, “What a waste of time! This is why God created checks and gift cards!” I remembered last Friday when both Linda Ellis’s poem “The Dash” was read and the recently deceased David Cassidy was mentioned. The former Partridge Family heartthrob’s last words were: “So much wasted time.” Indeed, too much time is wasted in unproductive activities or agonizing over what, in actuality, are trivial matters. Searching the same website, over and over, and expecting to find something different was certainly one of those.
But she said, “Don’t call me Naomi; call me Bitter. The Strong One has dealt me a bitter blow. I left here full of life, and God has brought me back with nothing but the clothes on my back. Why would you call me Naomi? God certainly doesn’t. The Strong One ruined me.” [Ruth 1:20-21 (MSG)]
We, therefore, can confidently say: ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?’ [Hebrews 13:6 (PHILLIPS)]
Devotions of the Heart 