Psalm 88
1 O Lord, God of my salvation;
I cry out day and night before you.
2 Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!3 For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength,
5 like one set loose among the dead,
like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
for they are cut off from your hand.
6 You have put me in the depths of the pit,
in the regions dark and deep.
7 Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
and you overwhelm me with all your waves. Selah8 You have caused my companions to shun me;
you have made me a horror to them.
I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
9 my eye grows dim through sorrow.
Every day I call upon you, O Lord;
I spread out my hands to you.
10 Do you work wonders for the dead?
Do the departed rise up to praise you? Selah
11 Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
12 Are your wonders known in the darkness,
or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?13 But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?
15 Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your dreadful assaults destroy me.
17 They surround me like a flood all day long;
they close in on me together.
18 You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.
Lenten scripture isn’t always comfortable. The soulful laments connect us to the dark nights of our own souls, when we feel God’s face has been hidden from us. The pain of the psalmist reminds us of our own pain, which we would much like to forget or ignore. But alas, there the lament psalms are . . . calling us into our pain or the remembrance of our pain . . . neither being where we would like to go. Though I might not be as honest as the psalmist, I also remember times when I have been left with no life choice but to be vulnerable to God, offering up my own troubled soul for healing. The blessed gift of remembrance . . . remembrance of dark days long past upon which the sun slowly rose. . . is an opportunity to offer God my greatest thanksgiving, even perhaps thank God for the pain I have endured because it was the pathway to the blessed life I know today. Although today my soul is not in darkness, I remember well those painful seasons of my life and I come before God with praise and even with thanksgiving for them because I now see them as the pathway to my wholeness. I also come to the psalm knowing full well that it is likely I will again experience times in my life when I feel rejected, angry and trapped by the pain of life. My prayer is that I will trust God and cry for help, being certain of God’s great faithfulness because I have known it before.
Merciful God, turn your ear to us as we pray. Transform our darkness, heal our pain, and rejoice with us when our darkness is transformed to light and we know you as our redeemer. Amen.
Dawne McAlpin
