In My Heart, a God-Shaped Hole

AM Psalm 26, 28 • PM Psalm 36, 39
Exod. 19:1-16 • Col. 1:1-14 • Matt. 3:7-12

Do you ever think about the movement between equilibrium and disequilibrium in phases of your life? I do. The wave of one may wash over me for weeks at a time until gradually it recedes to make way for the other to slowly approach, gathering momentum and size until I am swirling in waters of either serenity or conflict, joy or anxiety, hope or despair. If it is an especially challenging imbalance, the waves come at me rapidly and I am flailing in them, jumping to climb back to my boat, back to equilibrium.

I am amazed by Psalm 39 and grateful. The author is experiencing so much — each line or two reflects the familiar pull of opposing forces within myself. In thirteen short verses, the psalmist expresses anger, frustration, a prayer for help, a complaint, humility, wisdom about the transience of life, another petition, then despair, hope, a confession of sin, again despair, and finally, a return to hope.

The psalmist begins with silence in front of his enemies with pain-filled restraint:

I held my peace to no avail; my distress grew worse…
my heart became hot within me… the fire burned.

Rather than lose his temper with his enemies, the author wisely breaks his silence in the best way possible — by emptying his heart to God, revealing all his fears and doubts. With great humility, he asks God for the measure of his days, not so he will know his date of death but rather to have the wisdom to remember that he is dust; that everyone, rich or poor, walks around like a shadow, living without substance. Let me know how fleeting my life is…. Then a plea for help — And now, O Lord, what do I wait for? — and an admission of sin — Deliver me from all my transgressions.

The author knows he is under painful correction from God of the Old Testament — I am worn down by the hostility of your hand — and with tears, asks for God’s mercy. For he is just a traveler in this world, a passing guest — in this world but not of it — who has caught sight of his true home with God.

And in the eloquent poetry of the bible, the psalmist humbly asks God no longer to look at him with the eyes of correction:

Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again,
before I depart and am no more.

Though the psalm ends without resolution, I learn that hope and despair, belief and self-doubt, and both calm waters and rough seas are all simultaneous realities in the life of the faithful. To feel the need for God in the swirling waters of my life — this is my safety and my joy.

Dear God, be good to me —
the sea is so wide, my boat so small!

Written by Bernadette Reda

Welcoming Spring and enjoying the mystery, light and love of our world and each other.