Second Sunday in Lent (5)

                                                    Melting Snow by Cattail Pond in West Lethbridge

Save Me, O God; for the waters are come in, even unto my soul. I stick fast in the deep mire, where no ground is, I am come into the deep waters, so that the flood runs over me. I am weary of crying; my throat is dry: my sight faileth me for waiting so long upon my God.                     Psalm 69: 1-3

 Over this long winter of isolation, the Arctic vortex plunged us in hellish cold, the snow fell, fell, and fell some more, leaving us stranded in an ocean of white. It was hard to believe that spring would come anytime soon, and it still seems a little way off.

The Psalmist was waiting for a season to end, too: another kind of season. He was in a hopeless place - isolated, misunderstood, gossiped about. An ocean of false accusations, opposition, and grief rolled over him. “They that hate me without cause are more than the hairs of my head: they that are mine enemies, and would destroy me guiltless, are mighty,” he says. 

Perhaps you have been in a hopeless place. Maybe you are still there. If so, you might empathize with this writer as he waits for release from suffering that seems endless.

No matter what our life experience is, we can’t help but be inspired by our Psalmist. After listing all the things that have hurt him, all the injustices he has experienced, he asks for God’s help in building the Kingdom of God. “Let not those that seek thee be confounded though me, O God of Israel,” he says.  

Then our writer’s perception shifts. Not only does he begin to praise God, he summons the whole of creation to join in. “Let heaven and earth praise Him, the sea and all that mouth,” he says.  A bigger truth emerges for him, and for us.  His enemies cannot keep him from what God intends to provide for him. Waiting will not last forever. God will rebuild the pillaged cities. “They that love his name shall dwell with Him,” he reminds us. 

Even though the Psalmist still waits for this restoration, he is utterly changed. He knows that his spring is coming. The snow has melted and exposed the muck below it. Soon the sun will awaken the seeds inside him and the Psalmist’s world will be green again.

So Be It. Amen.

- Jane Harris-Zsovan