Read: Psalm 43

Why are you cast down, O my soul?
–Psalm 43:5a

In Psalm 43 the psalmist laments not only his distress at the hands of the wicked but his estrangement from God. His hope lies in the steadfastness of God.

Sometimes I wonder, is God not listening? Why doesn’t God do something to help? The strength that once got me through pain and grief has drained away. My days are ruled by fear, my sleep disturbed by strange dreams. I beg, plead, thank, cajole, demand–that’s what prayer is… isn’t it? I pray but hear only silence.

What do I fear: Being like the self-righteous ones who seem so sure of everything, or not being like them? I always try to do the right thing but miss the mark too often. Could so many failures make me unworthy to make that final, heavenly cut? Do I fear the dissolution of my world by hatred and twisted values? Perhaps my values and way of life are not honest-just-true-humane-sincere enough. Am I not good enough; am I not enough? Is that why God has been so distant?

These thoughts, these insecurities are my inner enemy. My own weaknesses oppress and deceive me, drive me further into that low, dark place where God can barely hear me. It is there that my soul lies, heavy, disquieted.

Yet, even there the blackness is not all there is. A small point of light catches my eye, and the longer I look at it the larger it grows. Its warmth stirs my soul, bathing it in a soothing tenderness. And still, there is silence, but silence filled with meaning, a wordless prayer.

Then I realize that I am standing on a high and holy place, a place of reconciliation, where God judges me with love. God was with me, hearing me, all the time; I just didn’t know it.

Gracious God, grant me an awareness of your divine presence, let me welcome you into my heart, and accept my gratitude as we sit in silence, together. Amen.
-Carol Treston

Read: Psalm 54

Arrogant foes are attacking me; ruthless people are trying to kill me—people without regard for God.
-Psalm 54:3

I have a strong hunch that if you had quoted the third verse of this psalm to the people who stormed the Capitol in Washington, D.C. on January 6 you would have received an affirming, “Right on!” along with a token militia badge. Behind the outward political grievances connected with a national election the previous November, the animus propelling this event, and others like it across the country, seemed fired up by the Old Testament zeal against the wicked hosts who are hell-bent on our destruction. In fact, my greatest fear for the soul of our country is that the emotions of our better angels — compassion, empathy, love — no longer give us the same sense of being alive and human as the feelings of sheer outrage. In such times, as the psalm suggests, the Lord is indeed the one who sustains me.

Lord, you have truly delivered me from all my troubles. It is therefore only fitting that my “freewill offering” to you be the arrogance that I ascribe to my enemies but fail to decry in myself. Amen.
-Michael Boss

Read: Psalm 6

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror.
-Psalm 6:2

When COVID deniers talk about how COVID is “just a cold” or “just flu”, it takes every ounce of self-control that I have not to scream at them. A “cold” can land me in the emergency room with respiratory distress because I have asthma and cannot have oral steroids. I have ended up in the emergency room often enough with “colds” since I moved here that I am on a first-name basis with the respiratory therapy staff at Skagit Valley Hospital. One of the last “colds” I had in 2018 hit me so hard that I was sleeping 18 hours a day, and my doctor had to prescribe me a combination of medications so that I could mix my own Duo-Nebs as the hospital was overrun with flu patients. It is one of the reasons my family is quarantining so strictly—I went into sepsis the last time I had pneumonia, and we know that COVID will be even worse for me.

This psalm is labeled as “a prayer for recovery from grave illness”, and I can empathize with the psalmist. Bones shaking with terror (v.2)? I’ve had that. Soul struck with terror (v.3)? That’s not uncommon either. Weary with moaning (v.6)? That’s also normal.
Verse 9 describes the reason for the prayer: the Lord has heard my supplication; the Lord accepts my prayer. Healing may take time, but it does eventually come.

Be present with all who are fighting COVID, dear Lord, and protect all the health workers who are treating COVID patients. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

Read: Psalm 4

When you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent.
-Psalm 4:4b

Each night before sleep, I enter the sacred realm of prayer. I structure my prayer time using the ACTS model: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication. On any given night, I dwell in each of those four rooms for as long as I need.

Some nights, I am awash with adoration, especially if I have spent time outdoors. On difficult days, I linger in the virtual confessional (a holdover from my youth in the Roman Catholic Church). Thanksgiving is my favorite room, and I usually tarry there for many minutes. If this past year has taught me anything, it is to be thankful for even the smallest of blessings. When I have spent a considerable amount of time giving thanks (which I also do all day long as the Spirit moves me), I move into the final room: Supplication.

Psalm 4 is about supplication:

Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God. Give me relief from my distress; have mercy on me and hear my prayer.

David opens this psalm with a passionate plea. As one commentary noted, David isn’t throwing up a wayward prayer to the heavens here; he is asking for God’s immediate attention. David asks why the ungodly prosper (sound familiar?) and he laments about those whose ways are contrary to God’s ways (sound familiar again?) At the end of the psalm, David asks God to set him apart for God’s purpose and glory. With this assurance, he sleeps.

When sleep is about to overtake me, I close with a familiar ending I have used for many decades:

Dear Lord, I place my life into Your hands tonight; hold me fast until the morning light. Amen.

Read: Psalm 140

I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the poor and render justice to the needy. Surely, the righteous will give thanks to your Name, and the upright shall continue in your sight. I like the psalmist’s positive hope and the assurance that the LORD will make everything all right. From my early days our culture has encouraged me to look for a positive ending.
-Psalm 140:12-13

When I was a kid in grade school, there was a guaranteed good time to be had on Saturday, when our small town’s movie theater showed kid-friendly films – for nine cents! The movies were usually cowboy films starring virtuous western heroes – Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Hop-a-long Cassidy, maybe The Lone Ranger with his trusty sidekick Tonto.

Whatever the storyline, some things were certain: that there would be bad guys who did bad things like rustling cows or robbing banks or being really mean and maybe even pulling out their six-shooters on virtuous folks. And our cowboy hero would, using only fair play, put a stop to their evil doings and restore peaceful order and joyful relief as he rode off into the sunset on his faithful horse… (Trigger? Silver? Champion?).

Children’s literature usually followed a similar trajectory with troubled times which ultimately came to a happy resolution. Isn’t that the way things are supposed to work? For when a TV show, movie, book, play, or story from a friend “warms the heart,” there’s a positive outcome to the dangers and troubles of life.

Maybe God agrees. Just as the psalmist must deal with terrible and cruel attacks from his/her enemies, Jesus must suffer at the hands of others. And then – the miracle. The death on the cross leads not to despair but to confidence that yes, THIS story – our story – has the happiest of endings. All happy endings echo our best story.

In the end, the psalmist rejoices, and – praise the LORD – so can we, because indeed, God will save his people.

Thank you, LORD. We believe that God is healing and restoring the world and that we are recipients of and participants in that restoration. Amen!
-Tom Worrell 

Read: Psalm 41

… O Lord, be gracious to me; heal me, for I have sinned against you.
-Psalm 41:4

The psalmist is sick. He’s not just sick, but gravely ill. It’s bad enough that his enemies are gloating over his condition, but even his best friend – his bosom buddy – has turned against him. OMG! What’s interesting, though, is that the psalmist doesn’t ask for forgiveness for his sin, but rather restoration to health so he can “repay” his enemies. Ah, “revenge is a dish best served cold” (a Klingon axiom).

I suppose there is a certain satisfaction with revenge or seeing our bêtes noirs receiving their just desserts, and yet I find such an attitude quite lacking in the Spirit of Christ, who calls us to forgive and to leave judgment to God. I have found that sort of satisfaction, like sweets themselves, quite tasty in the short run, but lacking in nutritional value. It may satisfy my sweet tooth for the moment but leaves me hungry and wanting later. Jesus offers to feed us with nothing less than himself, and I have found over the years that to eat and drink at the Lord’s table has often brought me out of my need (or desire) for vengeance. God is immensely satisfying, even when I hurt.

God, you know I have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed; by things done and left undone. And yet, for some strange reason, you’d rather keep me in the fold than wreak vengeance upon me. So be it. Help me to be just as gracious towards those who trouble me. For that, I certainly need your help. Amen.
-The Rev. Keith Axberg