Oh, God, my Lord, step in; work a miracle for me—you can do it! Get me out of here—your love is so great!— I'm at the end of my rope, my life in ruins. Psalm 109:21-22 (MSG)
Reading the early verses of Psalm 109 is like reading the words to a death metal CD. I found it strange to read David's lyrics this morning. There is so much anger and vitriol coming out of David's heart. Not that I don't identify with his words. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I read verses 6-20 and can put a face or two on my own anger.
Then I got to verse 21 and find David peeling back the layer of venemous animosity that shrouds his heart. Underneath the hatred is a man reeling in his own pain. At the root of the curses is the calamity of David's own heart. Psalm 109 is a primal scream. It's a song of unabashed emotional pain poured out, uncensored, to God.
I think I filter my conversation with God too often. God is not surprised by my emotion. He is no stranger to my pain. He sees through the veneer of my hatred to the anguish of my soul. There is a healing virtue in pouring out my pain in a safe place.
Jesus is a shelter in the storm, and He has really thick skin.