Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label despair. Show all posts

Friday, December 7, 2018

REMEMBER! (Psalm 77)


One of my uncles lived through a similar attack in World War 2
(An ongoing series on the 48 psalms recommended for study during times of depression, as listed in David Seamands’ book, Healing for Damaged Emotions. This week marks the half-way point in this study begun in June. It's helped me to sense God's purposes in the challenges I've faced. Hope you've found encouragement in this journey, too.)

Our home’s wall calendar has “Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day” noted on this day, Dec. 7.  My older sister was barely a month old in 1941 when Honolulu’s Pearl Harbor was attacked and filled with death. Several of my mother’s six brothers served in the military, and one, Norman, was a Marine aboard the Enterprise,  supporting battles in the Pacific. In 1945, two years before I was born, his ship and crew endured a Kamikaze (suicide pilot) attack that killed 12 and wounded 72. Later, his duty over, Norman returned to civilian life, but did little more than entry-level jobs. He never married. But bring up the subject of war, and he would remember its death, despair and distress.

DESPAIR AND DISTRUST
When I realized that my weekly study of the “depression psalms” would land this one on Dec. 7, I thought, how appropriate. Like the author, Asaph, we can get dragged down by memories of the past. The first part of the psalm is full of personal pronouns: I, my, me. I identified with his response when sleep eluded him at night:

When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out my untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered you, O God, and I groaned; I mused and my spirit grew faint.(vv. 2-3)

In those dark-night and emotionally-dark times, Asaph remembered better times long ago before it seemed that God had turned His back and gone away. His hurting heart spewed out six angry questions about the very character of God:

1. Will God reject us forever?
2. Will He never show favor again?
3. Has His unfailing love vanished forever?
4. Has His promise failed for all time?
5. Has God forgotten to be merciful?
6. Has He in anger withheld his compassion?

DELIVERANCE!
The answer to all those questions is “no!” Even when life is dismal and distressing, God’s love never goes away. Asaph realized that, as well, in remembering. In his case, it was recounting the astonishing history of the Hebrews leaving slavery in Egypt. The miraculous plagues were followed by the miraculous parting of the sea, described in powerful poetry in verses 16-20 of this psalm.

At first reading, the last verse of his psalm seemed out of character with the strong language earlier:

You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron. (v. 20)

Sheep have poor memories. They need their shepherd. When times are tough, when life is an ocean filled with mines and battleships, and a sky with kamikaze suicide pilots (Satan seems to enjoy that type of warfare), I need a wise commander. When I remember the other times He has helped me in life’s battles, I am encouraged to keep going.

Friday, October 25, 2013

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.