The last several months have been tough months for my household. Both physical and emotional, we have had our share of shocks and hits. It has been a time of questioning, pleading, and wondering, especially between me and God. I know that there have been others around me who also have been going through tough times but, as we all must admit, "nobody knows the trouble I've seen" when it's me having the troubles. You may have lost your arm but, man, that thorn in my foot is killing me!
Winter months tend to be a hard time for me anyway and, I have at times, wondered if I don't create my own difficulties as a result - sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you know what I mean. But this winter, I don't think this is the case. Circumstances have truly been beyond our control and, quite honestly, I have wondered what part God has had to play in it all. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that the roller coaster ride may not be over.
Some weeks ago I came across a Psalm that I could really put myself into, that I connected with on an emotional and spiritual level. The Psalms are funny that way. They are filled with joy, passion, forgiveness, hope, promise, proclamation, and worship. But they are also filled with pathos, anguish, loneliness, hurt, bewilderment, questioning. We Christians are pretty comfortable reading and praying from "those" Psalms but there are a few Psalms that we tend to skip over, ones we don't feel comfortable "praying" and reading out loud. Those Psalms express anger, disappointment, even challenging and questioning God. We aren't comfortable with those because what right do we have to approach God in that fashion?
The truth is, we have those feelings; the truth is, we have those thoughts; the truth is, we may even "express" those things silently in our heads (as if God can't read our minds!) but we don't have the guts to be honest enough with ourselves, to others, and especially to God to look Him in the eye and express them to Him.
David did, and on several occasions. Psalm 44 is a case in point. And as I read it, my heart melded to those words because many of them were words and phrases that I was feeling.
David begins by acknowledging God as His God. He points to the "stories" that God's people have heard, even experienced in their lives, and how they remember them. David points to how all that they (Israel) had accomplished was the direct result of God's intervention and power. Without Him they would have been unsuccessful at everything they had attempted:
Winter months tend to be a hard time for me anyway and, I have at times, wondered if I don't create my own difficulties as a result - sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you know what I mean. But this winter, I don't think this is the case. Circumstances have truly been beyond our control and, quite honestly, I have wondered what part God has had to play in it all. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that the roller coaster ride may not be over.
Some weeks ago I came across a Psalm that I could really put myself into, that I connected with on an emotional and spiritual level. The Psalms are funny that way. They are filled with joy, passion, forgiveness, hope, promise, proclamation, and worship. But they are also filled with pathos, anguish, loneliness, hurt, bewilderment, questioning. We Christians are pretty comfortable reading and praying from "those" Psalms but there are a few Psalms that we tend to skip over, ones we don't feel comfortable "praying" and reading out loud. Those Psalms express anger, disappointment, even challenging and questioning God. We aren't comfortable with those because what right do we have to approach God in that fashion?
The truth is, we have those feelings; the truth is, we have those thoughts; the truth is, we may even "express" those things silently in our heads (as if God can't read our minds!) but we don't have the guts to be honest enough with ourselves, to others, and especially to God to look Him in the eye and express them to Him.
David did, and on several occasions. Psalm 44 is a case in point. And as I read it, my heart melded to those words because many of them were words and phrases that I was feeling.
David begins by acknowledging God as His God. He points to the "stories" that God's people have heard, even experienced in their lives, and how they remember them. David points to how all that they (Israel) had accomplished was the direct result of God's intervention and power. Without Him they would have been unsuccessful at everything they had attempted:
You're my King, O God—
command victories for Jacob!
With your help we'll wipe out our enemies,
in your name we'll stomp them to dust.
I don't trust in weapons;
my sword won't save me—
But it's you, you who saved us from the enemy;
you made those who hate us lose face.
All day we parade God's praise—
we thank you by name over and over.Psalm 44:4-8 (Message)
But then David unleashes his frustration. He points to God and says, "But You left me hanging. You walked away and left us alone to face it all. You led us to the slaughter, sold us for a cheap price, made us look like fools for relying on You." Tough words.
I'm not at all comfortable saying such things to God, though I must admit I have felt them, along with guilt for feeling them. But I have had them: "Where are You, God, in all this crap that is being thrown our way? Why have You allowed the turmoil of the world to work it's way into the life of my family, into my life?" I have, almost, pointed an accusatory finger at God and let loose my disbelief and disillusion that I was feeling with God.
David doesn't stop there. He goes even further:
I'm not at all comfortable saying such things to God, though I must admit I have felt them, along with guilt for feeling them. But I have had them: "Where are You, God, in all this crap that is being thrown our way? Why have You allowed the turmoil of the world to work it's way into the life of my family, into my life?" I have, almost, pointed an accusatory finger at God and let loose my disbelief and disillusion that I was feeling with God.
David doesn't stop there. He goes even further:
All this came down on us,
and we've done nothing to deserve it.
We never betrayed your Covenant: our hearts
were never false, our feet never left your path.
Do we deserve torture in a den of jackals?
or lockup in a black hole?
If we had forgotten to pray to our God
or made fools of ourselves with store-bought gods,
Wouldn't God have figured this out?
We can't hide things from him.
No, you decided to make us martyrs,
lambs assigned for sacrifice each day.
Psalm 44:17-22 (Message)
When we find ourselves in the midst of these storms, how many of us are quick to look at our lives to see if we have been "deliberately walking" out of step with God? We do this "checklist" thing of the do's and don'ts of the faith (or is it the list of our particular church?) to see what we've been missing, in hopes that, if we can figure it out, make the appropriate adjustments and seek forgiveness, God will step in and cease the storm(s). Or at least ease them. I have found, though, that even then, often the storms don't disappear. I still have to ride it out, work it out, and pray through it, but my prayers are often filled with the questions and pleas of one being battered by the winds.
However, there have been times, and of late would be an example, where I believe we (Heather and I) have been walking by faith, trusting in God, striving to do His will, even feeling a deep sense of His peace and blessing, when all of a sudden, bang, crash, swoosh, we have found ourselves almost capsized. Out of nowhere it came. Where did God go? Why did He remove Himself, His blessing, from us? What in the world is He trying to accomplish in all of this? "Have you fallen asleep, God?"
U2 wrote a song that I think really captures this struggle between faith and doubt, trust and anger, hope and confusion. The song is called Wake Up Dead Man. As I listento this song, coupled with Psalm 44, I understand exactly what Bono/U2 is wrestling with.
And yet, and yet, in the midst of it all - the turmoil, the sense of confusion, the crises, the rug being put out from under - Bono points to God's mysterious presence in the midst of it all, in the midst of life: "Listen to the words, they'll tell you what to do; Listen over the rhythm that's confusing you; Listen to the reed in the saxophone; Listen over the hum of the radio; Listen over the sound of blades in rotation; Listen through the traffic and circulation; Listen as hope and peace try to rhyme; Listen over marching bands playing out their time." In the midst of doubt there is still faith. It's almost as if doubt is part of the foundation of a growing faith; as if uncerainty pushes hope higher. I don't always see it that way - at first - but, over time, and as I look back, I see it, sometimes clearly, sometimes ever so faintly, but it's there, a glow in the distance.
David began his Psalm the way he often closed his Psalms that expressed his doubt and confusion, by looking at and grasping hold of what God had done in the past; it's like a tether that keeps him from loosing his bearings:
And I try to do the same. It can be hard though. When you can't see land and the storm is all around you, it can be difficult to keep paddling your boat, even harder to get out of the boat and walk on the water.
Which reminds me of the story (Matthew 8) of the disciples crossing the sea with Jesus, who had laid down and fallen asleep. A storm came up and got pretty intense so the disciples started to panic and woke up Jesus. "Are you gonna let us die?" they cried out at Him. And I can just see Jesus, shaking His head and saying, in a calm voice, "What is it with you guys? Why do you have such ineffective faith?" Then He spoke to the storm and it went away.
I know I often have little faith, ineffective faith. I think I doubt more often first than I believe first. I hear Him speak to me and challenging me to greater faith. And of late, we have done a lot of stepping out in faith and have been left baffled by what has unfolded before us. But I hold onto the promises of my Savior and Lord. I remind myself of His help in the past. And I trust Him with my tomorrow and beyond.
I believe. Help my unbelief!
However, there have been times, and of late would be an example, where I believe we (Heather and I) have been walking by faith, trusting in God, striving to do His will, even feeling a deep sense of His peace and blessing, when all of a sudden, bang, crash, swoosh, we have found ourselves almost capsized. Out of nowhere it came. Where did God go? Why did He remove Himself, His blessing, from us? What in the world is He trying to accomplish in all of this? "Have you fallen asleep, God?"
Get up, God! Are you going to sleep all day?Pointed words! Words born out of frustration and confusion. Words thrown toward God Almighty. How brash! How daring! What guts! What honesty and openess!
Wake up! Don't you care what happens to us?
Why do you bury your face in the pillow?
Why pretend things are just fine with us?
And here we are—flat on our faces in the dirt,
held down with a boot on our necks.
Get up and come to our rescue.
If you love us so much, Help us!
Psalm 44:23-26 (Message)
U2 wrote a song that I think really captures this struggle between faith and doubt, trust and anger, hope and confusion. The song is called Wake Up Dead Man. As I listento this song, coupled with Psalm 44, I understand exactly what Bono/U2 is wrestling with.
Jesus, Jesus help meLIke Psalm 44, U2 looks at the world and their lives and wonders where God is in the devastation, turmoil, and violence that they see unfolding around them. They lift their voices in anguish because, despite their faith in God, a faith in the God who created the world ("Your Father, He made the world in seven, He's in charge of heaven), they wonder why God seemingly isn't doing anything ("Will You put a word in for me?). The chorus, "Wake up, wake up dead man," is another version of what David wrote: "Get up, God! Are you going to sleep all day? Wake up! Don't you care what happens to us?"
I'm alone in this world
And a f*&%@#-up world it is too.
Tell me, tell me the story
The one about eternity
And the way it's all gonna be.
Wake up, wake up dead man
Wake up, wake up dead man.
Jesus, I'm waiting here, boss
I know You're looking out for us
But maybe Your hands aren't free.
Your Father, He made the world in seven
He's in charge of heaven.
Will You put a word in for me?
Wake up, wake up dead man
Wake up, wake up dead man.
Listen to the words, they'll tell you what to do
Listen over the rhythm that's confusing you
Listen to the reed in the saxophone
Listen over the hum of the radio
Listen over the sound of blades in rotation
Listen through the traffic and circulation
Listen as hope and peace try to rhyme
Listen over marching bands playing out their time.
Wake up, wake up dead man
Wake up, wake up dead man.
Jesus, were You just around the corner?
Did You think to try and warn her?
Were You working on something new?
If there's an order in all of this disorder
Is it like a tape recorder?
Can we rewind it just once more?
Wake up, wake up dead man
Wake up, wake up dead man.
Wake up, wake up dead man.
And yet, and yet, in the midst of it all - the turmoil, the sense of confusion, the crises, the rug being put out from under - Bono points to God's mysterious presence in the midst of it all, in the midst of life: "Listen to the words, they'll tell you what to do; Listen over the rhythm that's confusing you; Listen to the reed in the saxophone; Listen over the hum of the radio; Listen over the sound of blades in rotation; Listen through the traffic and circulation; Listen as hope and peace try to rhyme; Listen over marching bands playing out their time." In the midst of doubt there is still faith. It's almost as if doubt is part of the foundation of a growing faith; as if uncerainty pushes hope higher. I don't always see it that way - at first - but, over time, and as I look back, I see it, sometimes clearly, sometimes ever so faintly, but it's there, a glow in the distance.
David began his Psalm the way he often closed his Psalms that expressed his doubt and confusion, by looking at and grasping hold of what God had done in the past; it's like a tether that keeps him from loosing his bearings:
We've been hearing about this, God, all our lives."Tell me, tell me the story, the one about eternity and the way it's all gonna be." So sings Bono at the beginnig of "Wake Up, Dead Man." He's holding on to what God has done in the past and in the belief that God is going to accomplish His will in the future, whether it be in the immediate future or when Christ returns (and I think it's both). David, in many of his Psalms, does the same.
Our fathers told us the stories
their fathers told them,
How single-handedly you weeded out the godless
from the fields and planted us,
How you sent those people packing
but gave us a fresh start.
We didn't fight for this land;
we didn't work for it—it was a gift!
You gave it, smiling as you gave it,
delighting as you gave it.
Psam 44:1-3 (Message)
And I try to do the same. It can be hard though. When you can't see land and the storm is all around you, it can be difficult to keep paddling your boat, even harder to get out of the boat and walk on the water.
Which reminds me of the story (Matthew 8) of the disciples crossing the sea with Jesus, who had laid down and fallen asleep. A storm came up and got pretty intense so the disciples started to panic and woke up Jesus. "Are you gonna let us die?" they cried out at Him. And I can just see Jesus, shaking His head and saying, in a calm voice, "What is it with you guys? Why do you have such ineffective faith?" Then He spoke to the storm and it went away.
I know I often have little faith, ineffective faith. I think I doubt more often first than I believe first. I hear Him speak to me and challenging me to greater faith. And of late, we have done a lot of stepping out in faith and have been left baffled by what has unfolded before us. But I hold onto the promises of my Savior and Lord. I remind myself of His help in the past. And I trust Him with my tomorrow and beyond.
I believe. Help my unbelief!
