Read: Psalm 56

In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I am not afraid; what can flesh do to me?
-Psalm 56:4

The notes on this psalm say that David composed or sang this when the Philistines seized him at Gath. According to the account in 1 Samuel 21:10-15, David was acting like a mad man, presumably trying to keep from staying in their custody. Apparently, it worked because Achish, the king of the Philistines, did not want David in his presence.

The psalm itself is fairly upbeat for a “psalm of lament”. He does express concern about “people trampl[ing] on him” (v.2), “seek[ing] to injure [his] cause” (v.5), and “stir[ring] up strife” (v.6), but the majority of it is recalling God’s strength and protection. What confidence he has!

Does this mean that all of us are remiss for not having the same level of confidence as David? Not at all. We are going to go through times when we don’t have a clear path forward. I think the trick, however, is to remember that God *IS* and *WILL BE* present through it, even if we are saying those words with shaky voices and trembling hearts.

Be present with us in the midst of trial, Lord. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

Read: Psalm 130

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits for him, in his word is my hope. My soul waits for the LORD, more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.
-Psalm 130:5-6

I may wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, but it’s never my first choice. As an adult convert to Christianity, early on I looked for, hoped for, presumed to expect, that God would answer my prayers right speedily or at least “in due time.” “In due time” meant, of course, before my limited patience gave out.

It’s a common enough outcome for people with experience in the faith: “Be careful when you ask for patience because God will then give you plenty of opportunities to practice it.” Yes, I’ve made that tactical error, and God met me there.

So, what I want to know now is, whose big idea was it to ask for patience in dealing with all the ordinary routines of life? Because I lay at your feet this pandemic, the splintered political situation, the drastic curtailing of moving about, the complications involved in communicating and gathering together, and so much more.

What a wonderful chance to practice patience!

My soul waits for the LORD, more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning…

Lord, we need your gift of patience and your strength to meet the challenges of every day. Thank you that you are walking our roads with us. Amen.
-Tom Worrell

Read: Psalm 129

Let them be like the grass on the housetops that withers before it grows up, with which reapers do not fill their hands or binders of sheaves their arms, while those who pass by do not say, “The blessing of the Lord be upon you! We bless you in the name of the Lord!”
-Psalm 129:6-8

I am intrigued by verses 6-8.

Grass on housetops? Were the Judeans the earliest proponents of green roofing? Yeah, no. Roofs were made of beams and branches covered in mud and plaster over reed mats. There was frequently grass seed embedded in the mud, so the seeds would sprout during the rainy season and grass would quite literally start growing on rooftops. However, the mud wasn’t that thick so there was no way for the grass to put down decent roots to grow, making it wither and die. That withered grass was of no use or interest to reapers because it was no good for hay. Thus, the psalmist is saying that they hope their enemies become useless, which is something that I think everyone would hope for those who oppose them.

Lord, help us to sort out the people who are “like rooftop grass” in our lives and show us the people who will be useful to us as we grow in your love and grace. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

Read: Psalm 28

Do not drag me away with the wicked, with those who are workers of evil, who speak peace with their neighbors while mischief is in their hearts.
-Psalm 28:3

I feel bad for the psalmist. So many of his laments would indicate he’s had a rough go of it. It seems he has plenty of enemies – more than enough to go around. The psalm contains three stages: “don’t forget me”; “give my enemies what they deserve”; and “thank you (for my deliverance)”.

I don’t know that I have ever felt abandoned by God. I’ve certainly had rough times, and there have been times I’ve decided God doesn’t exist – couldn’t exist. But those are my realities; they aren’t the ultimate reality. If there is a God like the one we proclaim, then I know that God never leaves or abandons those God loves (and God loves everyone). I believe that if God were to forget me, I would simply vanish without a trace. Since I haven’t, I have confidence God hasn’t forgotten me. That’s good news (for me, at any rate).

While I have been mightily vexed by enemies real and imagined, I have never actually prayed for their demise. I always think of prayer like a boomerang. What one sends forth comes back, and I don’t want my prayers coming back with a vengeance. So, I pray for God to soften my heart, bless me so that I may be a blessing to others, and so on. I have found that to be much more uplifting, even when I hurt.

God, you taught us to pray “deliver us from evil.” I presume that was for a reason. It is so easy to want burning coals to be heaped upon the heads of those who torment us; but to be completely honest, I don’t like how I feel when that happens. I find that sort of giddy delight soils my soul; I’d prefer you to purify me and my thoughts. Deliver me from evil. Amen.
-The Rev. Keith Axberg

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