First Week in Lent (4)
Psalm 42
As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng. Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me. Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me — a prayer to the God of my life. I say to God my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?” My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?” Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
This past December, early in the month, I had my long
awaited knee replacement surgery. I thought it would keep me down for a couple
weeks and then I’d be up and active for Christmas. Little did I know. The
ordeal of recovery was intense and often lonely, especially since COVID kept
friends and family far away. I could identify with the writer of Psalm 42. “My
bones suffer mortal agony…” goes one line, and later, a plea for connection:
“Why have you forgotten me?” By the time
Christmas arrived, I was still very dependent on my family, and I could see it
was going to be a long road. But even so, there were many bright Christmas
moments, especially Zoom gatherings with friends and the livestream services at
church. Now, weeks later and into the season of Lent, my knee is recovering
nicely and I feel like I have been delivered. Praise God! The hope of spring is
in the air, but there is a pall over the land. A general frustration with the
isolation that has been mandated since November. People really miss holding
their grandchildren, or they miss their closest friends, or even their next
door neighbours. The feeling is palpable – it’s like thirst. For others it’s
more than a feeling. They are virtually dying of thirst, such is the cost of a
lost livelihood or a lost loved one, caused by a pandemic that is hard to
understand and control. Where can we turn? This sort of thing is not lost on
the writer of Psalm 42 who sounds like he’s in serious trouble. What he calls
being downcast is more than a feeling, and what he calls hope is more than a
wish. Perhaps his is a hopeless cause. Remarkably, despite his lamentations, he
is convinced that God sees him, cares about him and is able to save him.
Hundreds of years later, we can read this and nod our heads: “Yes, our true
hope is indeed in the Lord.”
-Pat Hammond
Prayer
Lord, my soul thirsts for You, the living God. Return me to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise. Cause me to put my hope in You alone, for I will yet praise You, my Savior and my God. Amen.