Read: Psalm 39

Lord, let me know my end, and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is.
–Psalm 39:4

The Psalmist is in pain. He is sick and trying to keep the information from his enemies. I understand the pain, but I’m not sure I would ask God to give me my expiration date. I think it is enough to live each day to the fullest and, frankly, who cares what my enemies think? Our days are numbered. None of us is getting out of here alive. A burial office of one sort or another will be prayed over each of us.

What I fear is reaching the end and never having lived in the first place. Perhaps the psalmist isn’t asking for a peek at his sell-by date, but to be reminded that he is mortal, and for the courage to live life to its fullest. Not in that “eat, drink, and be merry” sort of worldly stupidity, but in a “how may I experience and express the love of God to the best of my ability day by day?” sort of way.

When I hurt, I am prone to snap and snarl like a wounded dog. Healing comes in time and with time. Perhaps the psalmist is asking if he or she has time to heal. I hope so. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it certainly can help, especially when we place ourselves in the hands of the One who holds the Hourglass, even when it hurts.

Lord, my days are numbered. Help me rise each day knowing you are there. Guide and direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose. Let me lie down in appreciation for the day ended, and in hope for the morrow. Amen.
-The Rev. Keith Axberg

Read: Psalm 32

For day and night your hand was heavy on me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.
-Psalm 32:4

I’ve lived in some pretty hot places in the course of my life. India; Iran; Stockton, California; Boise, Idaho. Having grown up in the temperate climate of San Francisco, it took moving far from the Bay Area to appreciate the meaning of “debilitating climate” (try Kolkata in August). But far worse, especially when coupled with the heat of summer, is the turpitude of the soul. I’d rather cross the burning deserts of Iran’s Dasht-e-Lut than experience the bone-crushing weariness of a crisis of faith and the loss of hope that attends it. But what has always saved me is love — and that love originates from a source more eternal than the sun and is just as surely reflected by those who have chosen to share that love with me.

Lord, thank you for sustaining me in my most difficult moments of doubt and anxiety, and for your constant reminder that, in the words of the psalm, “many are the woes of the wicked, but the Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the one who trusts in him. Amen.
-Michael Boss

Read: Psalm 13

How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
-Psalm 13:2

A year ago on a Monday, one of my students thought it would be funny to come up behind me and poke me in the side. It backfired magnificently because I have PTSD from being assaulted by someone who grabbed me from behind, and she also managed to poke me in the ribs hard enough to leave a bruise. When I told her sternly not to do it again, she responded by laughing at me and telling me that I was overreacting. Her response triggered a massive PTSD flare-up, and I had to flee the classroom and leave campus because I was sobbing so hard. Thankfully, I have a support network of people I trust, and one of them took care of me that afternoon, getting me to the point where I could parent my son when he returned from school.

I did not have work the next day and thankfully had a therapy appointment already scheduled. My therapist had never seen me cry until that appointment, and she had the task of getting me OK enough to go back to work on Wednesday. We started trying to work through the trauma, but the pandemic hit, meaning that my sessions were now phone ones at home where I do not have as much privacy as her office. Making things harder, she left the practice a few months later, and she was replaced by a man who reminded me of my attacker. Eventually, I did get another therapist, but trust takes time to build and the trauma is sitting on my soul like an open wound. I have no choice but to heal because it will affect my future relationships if I don’t, but it is painful work to try and untangle the knots of anger and hurt.

Needless to say, verse 2 of the psalm speaks to me right now. I need the reminder of God’s presence with me as I do the work to heal, and God’s presence is not always felt. I am having to step out in faith and trust that God will be with me in all of it, and that I will eventually heal from what happened to me.

Gracious God, be with us in our pain and anger. Give us the strength we need to persevere in the midst of it and help us to trust that we will make it through to the other side. Amen.

Read: Psalm 51

Purge me from my sin, and I shall be pure; wash me, and I shall be clean indeed.
-Psalm 51:10

When I was a small child, a Sunday school teacher told us that Mary was chosen by God to be the mother of Jesus, because she had been so good all her life. In my child’s mind, and in a circular way of thinking, I thought that if I were very good all the time, I might also get to be Jesus’ mother. From then on, I was as good as I could be, so I was very easy to bring up, and a delight to classroom teachers. I couldn’t understand why others thought it was so difficult to follow rules and behave as one should.

Then as I grew into adulthood, I began to find it more difficult not to sin. Or maybe I was just more aware of all the ways I could hurt others and God. God once forgave me for what I thought was an unforgivable sin, and I then understood my need for God to keep me on the straight path. I couldn’t do it on my own.

The psalmist was way ahead of me, knowing deeply how easy it is to sin, and how only God can cleanse us and set us on the right path. Most of us try not to hurt others or to do what is wrong, but, oh, how we fail. Our loving God, however, is so ready to forgive us and welcome us into God’s warm, loving embrace. Then, having been forgiven and cleansed, we can go forth again, trying to do what is right in God’s sight.

Oh, Lord, thank you for always being ready to forgive us and to lift us up into your loving arms. Without you, we cannot be whole, but with your grace, we can try always to do what is right and good. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
-Penny Worrell

We are approaching the one year anniversary of the pandemic hitting the state of Washington, and many of us are still keeping a strict quarantine. Some of us have gotten the first COVID vaccine while others are not eligible for another few months. Many of us have only seen our extended family on a computer screen, and we are craving hugs and time spent in person. For others, everything just feels heavy and grayish right now, and they aren’t thinking about giving things up for Lent right now because this pandemic feels like the Lentiest Lent that ever Lented.

I have found that the Book of Psalms speaks to me in times like this because at least a third of the book contains psalms of lament. These psalms start off complaining and petitioning the Lord to end the persecution, illness, pain, or captivity involved before ending by praising some aspect of God’s power. For me, it’s a reminder that things do get better and that my suffering (or the suffering of others) is temporary. I am also reminded that I can praise God in every situation… “even when it hurts”.

This devotional book gives you a psalm to read daily, a reflection on some aspect of it, and a prayer at the end. I hope that the psalms give you words to pray and remind you of the promise that God will deliver us from adversity.
Blessings to you.
-Jen McCabe

Here are the files in case you want to download them onto an e-reader or print them.

Regular
Large-Print Version

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