Thoughts from a Modern-Day Psalmist

Psalm 13

For the director of music. A psalm of David.

¹ How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
² How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
    How long will my enemy triumph over me?

³ Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
    Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
⁴ and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
    and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

⁵ But I trust in your unfailing love;
    my heart rejoices in your salvation.
⁶ I will sing the Lord’s praise,
    for he has been good to me.

 

One of our pastors used this text in his sermon today. And on Ben's second-month heaven anniversary, I felt every word.

 

It seems unusual to have passages in the Bible - much less entire chapters or books - dedicated to people complaining to (or about) God. Frustrated when things don't go their way or when it feels like He has somehow remained quiet in our pain. Especially when we know how capable He is of turning things around completely. It almost feels unspiritual. As if we should only be pointed to examples where people blindly accepted God's master plan, even when they didn't understand. 

 

But I know that I am not alone in saying how comforted I am by many words of the psalmists, who have been given the opportunity to voice their pain, to question God's plan, but always end their rant in praise. The Bible is FULL of stories where people struggled with what God appeared to be doing. It's as if we needed those stories included in God's holy book to reassure us that it's okay to be human.

 

You see, none of us live absolutely perfect lives. Not a single one. There's not a single human in this world that could exclaim that everything has always gone as planned and that God has always provided everything they wanted, at the moment they wanted it. At least they couldn't do it with a clear conscience. It just doesn't happen.

 

The only thing we are guaranteed is that in this world, we will have trouble. We will get sick. We will have pain. We will struggle. But Jesus continues in that same verse to say, "But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

 

Perhaps that's why passages like this one in Psalm 13 bring me comfort. It doesn't end with pain and suffering. Death doesn't have the final say. God does. Not only is He the ultimate encourager and comforter, but in conquering death, He literally overcame the world!

 

We have HOPE!

 

Shortly after Bed died, I had breakfast with a long-time family friend and pastor. All along our journey, she empathized with our pain and her heart also cried out to God for Ben's physical healing. Her oldest grandson was just two months older than my boys and we had great memories of the three boys playing together last summer. She said that the news of Ben's aggressive diagnosis frustrated her and was one of the very few times in her life where she was literally mad at God.

 

I knew exactly what she was saying. I had had those feelings, too. I have been a Christian my whole life. I always felt His blessing on my life and so it was somewhat easy to trust Him. And yet, the moment when things started to look bleak, when it looked as though I could lose my son, I was ready to just throw in the towel and give it all up. I was very angry. And I definitely let God know.

 

But then she went on to say how beautiful it was that somehow, God had been using our gifts to tell the world about His goodness and even the joy that can be found in the midst of so much difficulty. If we were willing to acknowledge Him. "You're a modern-day psalmist, Mindy," she told me. "We read your cries to God and we feel your pain. And yet, you're reminding us to come back to Jesus. Because He's the only one that can heal our wounds."

 

A modern-day psalmist. Yes.

 

I am just as imperfect as the men who wrote those psalms. I get angry with God and question His motives. I wrestle with my emotions just as much as the psalmists struggle to see God in the midst of their afflictions. David, the writer of this psalm and many others, was far from perfect. He fell in love with a married woman, got her pregnant, had her husband killed in battle to make his death look like an accident, and God STILL used him to reach many people for Christ. Because God is not looking for perfect people. He's not looking for people who don't struggle, whose feelings don't fluctuate on a daily basis. He just wants us. As we are. To be honest with our humanness so God can do the rest. When we're willing to be used by Him, there is just no telling what He can accomplish.

 

Like David, I like to think of myself now as a psalmist. A regular imperfect person who's used a platform to complain, vent, scream, and yell my frustrations to my God. But because I've been walking with God for a while, I am far too aware of His goodness and grace to just stop there. Even as I acknowledge my wounds, I have so many good things around me to point back to His never-ending faithfulness and generosity.

 

As our pastor reminded us, "Faith isn't the absence of questions. It's knowing who to ask."

 

That's why I won't allow my psalm to end when my rant ends. I can't help but come back to God's sovereignty and power. To be reminded of His mercies that He provides every morning. To celebrate the life of my four kids: in heaven, on earth, and in utero, and just be in awe of His goodness. He is still God. And He is good.

 

God, even though I am so angry that this had to have happened... even though I hate the pain that my family had to suffer in losing my child... even though I hate knowing that I will never see that beautiful boy on this side of heaven again... I am so grateful that You allowed us to care for him, even for a short time. I am grateful for the ways you remind us of the mark he has left on our family. And I am very grateful that you are a God whose mercies are brand-new every single morning. I will continue to praise You in the midst of my pain. Because You have always been so very good to us.

 

I am so grateful to serve a God who is big enough to handle our questions. Our frustrations. Our bouts of disbelief and sadness. This world is full of so much sadness: friends move away, people die, kids get sick. And we, as Christians, are nowhere near exempt. The fact that we grieve, mourn, and hurt only mean that we are human. And we should take comfort in the fact that that is precisely how God designed us. But we also need to be reminded that that's only the first part of the story.

 

God is still God. And He is good.

 

The pastor ended the sermon with this:

 

"God has a perfect track record. He has never let a single person down. And He's not going to start with you."

 

Amen.