Psalm 13 | Wayfarer

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me for ever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
Psalm 13:1 (NRSVCE)

Along my journey, I have come to observe that there is a natural ebb and flow to life. It’s like the Sage of Ecclesiastes pointed out. Time and seasons for everything. There are times of plenty, and times of want. There are times when everything seems to be going my way, and times when every circumstance seems stacked against me.

Back in Psalm 11, David penned that “the upright behold [God’s] face” and I mentioned in my post that day that the notion of seeing a King’s face was a metaphor in the ancient Near East which meant that you had the king’s attention and favor. David used the metaphor to close that psalm with the faithful assurance that God would come through.

What a stark contrast. In today’s Psalm David begins by asking God how long he will hide his face from David. If holding the King’s face is his favor, then the King hiding his face means just the opposite. Today’s psalm seems to be David’s cry to God during one of those stretches of the journey when nothing is going right.

The contrasting metaphor remind me of the way I thought of life as a child. If things seemed to be be going my way, then I assumed that I had been good and God was blessing me. When things weren’t going well then I assumed I had done something wrong and God was punishing me. It took me a long time to see what a self-centered perspective that really was, as if everything in life is about me. Jesus said that if I want to find Life then I have to lose it, including the surrender of a childish notion that I am at the root of every circumstance.

Back in Psalm 7, I pointed out that David was singing the “Why Me?” Blues. Today’s song can just as easily be entitled the “How Long?” Blues. And, I think that’s the point as I meditate on it this morning. What makes the blues such a powerful music genre is that it resonates with and expresses the cries of my heart when life’s road gets rough, as it does for all of us.

Along the way, I’ve learned that the road is going to have its ups and its downs. There are going to be good times and bad. It may not be about me, but it’s certainly for me if I’m willing to learn what each stretch of the journey has to teach me about faith, gratitude, perseverance, joy, praise, growth, humility, blessing, trust, and maturity. And, when the road seems like a hard slog and my petulant inner child feels like God has hidden His face from me, I can always sing the “How Long?” Blues in which David begins with lament but ends with a refrain of trust and a reminder of God’s goodness despite the struggle.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
    How long will you look the other way?
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
    with sorrow in my heart every day?
    How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Psalm 13:1-2 (NLT)

I reached a significant waypoint in the journey last week while vacationing at the lake. On Thursday morning my friends Justin and Chad joined me for an early morning water skiing adventure. It was a gorgeous morning and the lake was nearly like glass. It was the morning after July 4th so virtually no one was out on the water after the previous night’s festivities. I have been water skiing since I was a kid. While I have only been on water skis once in the past several years, it’s a lot like riding a bike so I figured it would be no problem. I did ski and everything was wonderful, right up to the point that I wiped out. Apparently, my body can’t handle wiping out the way I remembered it doing as a teenager and in my twenties. If I’m going to wipeout, I guess it is no longer advisable to water ski.
Waypoint reached.

According to my doctor, my skiing adventure did a number on the medial collateral ligament of my right knee along with some accompanying damage to the meniscus. It also caused separation of the 7th rib on my right rib cage. At best I can look forward to six weeks of moderate pain and discomfort in both places as my body heals. Knee brace, ice, anti-inflammatories, and take it easy.

David, who was the King of Israel about 1000 B.C., wrote the lyrics of Psalm 13 when he was struggling with an on-going illness. I think almost every human being has, at one time or another, struggled with what feels like an endless ailment of some kind. Some of us know the life-and-death struggle of on-going disease. Others of us are annoyed constantly by a disability or medical issue. Even a relatively minor and microscopic tropical parasite can do an acute number on our insides and leave us wondering if death itself might be a welcome relief.

Times of pain and discomfort are all part of the journey. Crying out in anguish is part of the human experience. And from the depths, if we choose, we mine all sorts of wisdom that will benefit us the rest of the way. It is what it is.

Honey, can you hand me that ice pack?
Six weeks?
Really?

[sigh]