Psalm 42
1As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
Today, my younger sister sat in a hospital bed. There were no decorations in the small room in which the drab green curtain acted as a doorway, just white floor on white wall and a white sink in the corner. She had vomited for the last 12 hours—all she wanted was water, though she could not keep it down. She needed it so bad, the forthcoming IV served as a relief, for even though it pained her to be punctured through the arm by needle, that needle delivered life; water. She could not gulp it in mouthfuls but was willing to glean it from moistened paper towels; water—the bringer of life.
Without God, we dry up, we stop thinking, we stop functioning. He is the IV delivering life in the midst of our disease, and yet He never runs out.
2My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
I long for Heaven so much, because I am convinced Earth has no idea what to do with me. I can not drink until I pass out, for God uses me sober, I can not use women to satisfy my biological needs, for God needs me to be holy—imperfect but striving. I do not fall for certain tricks but am learning to build barriers and boundaries around the things I do fall for. I just want to see God already. I want to stop feeling left out and self-conscious, I long for the perfect peace I last knew in a baby's ignorance, I long for Heaven and a Father that never disappoints me.
3My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
Have you ever been so disturbed that you could not eat? There is such pain so connected to our inner parts, when aggravated it feels like a drill through the chest. There is such gloom that invades one's heart that the legs refuse to function, the arms fling soullessly with all attempts at motion and the eyes would rather be kept shut, damning the entire body to the darkness it feels.
Jesus Christ is not a theological concept to encourage morality, He is our brother in suffering, our advising friend in difficulty and our God that strengthens the legs of those He loves to walk confidently upon the stormy waters before us
.
4These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God,
with shouts of joy and thanksgiving
among the festive throng.
How beautiful it was to worship God when it was all easy. How great it was to learn about forgiveness when there were yet people who trampled my name into the pavement and made church uncomfortable. A 'crisis of faith' is a significant event in a believer's life, when the Word collides with your walk. The underlying question becomes, what place does God have in your life. It's all or nothing.
5Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and
Remember how your morning began with God's blessings, from style of clothing, to the ruffled sheets of your bed, to the way the creamy canned milk and coffee collaborated with poured sugar to deliver a pleasing taste to your mouth—you are surrounded by the palace of the Lord's favor built tile by tile from undeserved blessings. He has provided.
Feed the fire of your faith with the encouragement of your heart. Override your fluctuating emotions with the Truth of God in your life and from His Word. Remember the depths from which God saved you and how you have matured since then. You may not be where you want to be but thank God, you are not where you used to be.
6my God.
Myc soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.
“my God.” As if David, were drowning in the ocean, fighting to scream out a single phrase in the hopes of rescue before falling to the depths of the sea driven by the burden of his own weight. The love of Christ, the presence of God is what buoys us above our tempestuous environments.
The soul cries out for what will keep it alive. Our souls will be restless until they find their rest in Him.
In Him,
Jean-Marc
No comments:
Post a Comment