The Salve Psalms

Autumn’s dropping leaves are reminders that life includes times of loss that can leave us bewildered. I know at times I identified with the psalmist who cried out, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?” (42:5, 11; 43:5). Psalm 42’s spiritual metaphor of a deer desperate for water made sense for me, too: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (42:2).  

I was drawn to these psalms when I experienced major life disruptions and turmoil with emotional and physical consequences. A man I loved rejected me. Several times I faced adjustments in moving far away from home. My parents’ months-apart deaths and resulting estate tasks overwhelmed me. Other times of despair came with a serious car wreck, care-giving ailing in-laws, and coping with the “empty nest.”

But recently, as I reflected on both psalms (which are linked in original Hebrew manuscripts), I found I’d missed how that despondent query ended with the salve of a hopeful “yet”: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”        

The psalmist reveals several possible reasons for this downheartedness. One is spiritual opposition. Non-believers scoff, “Where is your God?” (42:3, also implied in 43:1-2). He misses familiar ways of worshipping with others (42:4). Scholars think he’s homesick—possibly displaced from Jerusalem to someplace near Mt. Hermon and the headwaters of the Jordan (42:6, 7). Yet even there he realizes that the place’s natural beauty (“deep calls to deep,” 42:7)) is nature’s music drawing him to the omnipresent God. I recalled how getting out to a place of beauty refreshed me when I felt down.

But the greater salve is embedded in the psalms’ names of God. He is “the living God” (42:2), true and able. He is the personal “my God” (42:5, 11: 43:4), He is powerful covenant God known as “the LORD” (v. 8). This name (rendered in small capitals in English Bible translations) is so holy to Jews that they will not speak or write it. We know it as YHWH or “Jehovah.” The psalmist also voices submission to “God of my life” (42:8). He prays to the solid, safe “God my rock” (42:9) and “God, my stronghold” (43:2). From his despair, he appeals to “God, my joy and my delight” (43:4). 

Even before studying this psalm, I had begun a practice of meditating on the names and attributes of God.  When problems kept me awake at night, I started going through the alphabet, recalling the names of God that gave me courage and encouragement.  I considered Him as the “Almighty One,” my Burden-bearer, my Compassionate Comforter—and on and on. By “Z,” peace and sleep would usually come. The practice reminded me that God, in the fullness of His deity, is far greater than any problem I might face.

The last part of the psalms’ thrice-repeated refrain also reminded me of God’s care in difficult experiences: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” The King James version renders that last part, “the health of my countenance, and my God.” The idea is that the God who lifts our saddened faces to show us His profound love is indeed the One who wants to save us from this despondency. He may use medical professionals to aid us out to health.

For me, the refrain’s key word is “hope.”  The apostle Paul reminded us that “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). He emphasized that life’s tribulations can lead us, in God’s plan, to hope that never disappoints (5:5).

Psalms 42 and 43 are no longer the “despondency” psalms for me.  Yes, they describe someone who’s downhearted.  But the psalms’ refrains don’t leave me stuck on “downcast.”  They remind me that, in life’s spiritual autumns and winters, to hang on to hope. They assure me that it’s okay to thirst for God and seek a deeper relationship with Him. When I admit my need, He will lead me to His waters of spiritual refreshment. Thus renewed, I will again praise Him, my Savior and my God.