Wednesday, February 24, 2010

God's Word, Our Lives

by Johanna Johnson

Two years ago, the day after a very difficult break-up with my boyfriend, Psalm 73 came up in my monthly Psalm cycle. In the midst of the fear, questioning, and sadness surrounding the break-up, I experienced more profoundly than ever before the sense that God truly was speaking to me specifically through these words.

21When my soul was embittered,
when I was pricked in heart,
22I was stupid and ignorant;
I was like a brute beast towards you.
23Nevertheless I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
24You guide me with your counsel,
and afterwards you will receive me with honour.
25Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you.
26My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.
27Indeed, those who are far from you will perish;
you put an end to those who are false to you.
28But for me it is good to be near God;
I have made the Lord God my refuge,
to tell of all your works.


This Psalm came up again in a recent Bible study. As we worked our way methodically through it, I had another profound experience where God seemed to speak to me, this time through my own mouth with God’s words; I began with the intention of saying one thing, and at the end I realized something else entirely had come out. I was explaining that my major hold up with the Psalms was this sense of “me vs. them.” The Psalms are always talking about “my enemies,” “those who hate me,” and how “they” will be punished. But what if “they” are not other people, but my own sinful nature? It’s not me against them, it’s me against me, my saint against my sinner. “For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Rom 7:15)

As I said this to the group gathered, I had another moment of pristine clarity, a moment that consisted primarily of, “Oh...” And my Lenten journey was laid out before me, with all its ominously dark corners and unknown curves and hills, but also the promise of joyous light at the end. It is a path on which we eagerly seek to distinguish sin from righteousness, to have our hearts cleansed, and to discover God’s will for our daily lives. Even as I look out upon that path with trepidation, I also feel my heart full of anticipation, hunger, longing, and satisfaction – all at once! As I (we!) traverse this scary road, I am comforted by the Psalmist’s words, “It is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge.”


Let us pray…. God of mercy, God of light: In our darkest moments, you are there. In our clearest moments, you are there. You are our compass, and our tent; you are our refuge. Lead us as down the path laid before us, helping us to know that wherever we are, there you are also. Amen.

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