Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me? -Psalm 42:5
Sometimes, it’s not a crisis that gets me down.
It’s all those little things.
Fever and chills. Aches.
Too sick to take care of my own kids.
Stacked dishes, spots on the carpet.
A macaroni and cheese flop. (And it was bad.)
The feeling of incompetence.
Of putting others out.
Cancelled get togethers with friends.
Quarantined in the house.
A feverish son who bawls every time he coughs, poor little man.
I don’t mean to complain.
And certainly don’t mean to mope.
I’ve got it good, I know. Really good.
It’s just that I want to be honest today.
I want to cry. I am crying. It’s just been one of those days.
And yet, in this honesty, I feel shame.
Shame cause these tears aren’t becoming of a follower of Christ.
Shame cause I just don’t have it all together.
Shame cause of this transparency:
Raw and ugly and condemned.
Yet in this place I find You.
Or did You find me?
I probably wasn’t listening.
Curled up in a ball, like a child in grown-up skin.
You love me and forgive.
Without the threat of shame, You love.
I am a beautiful disaster, but You knew that all along.
You made me human. And that I am.
And the beauty. That’s all Yours.
Where can I go from Your spirit?
Where can I flee from Your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, You are there.
If I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn.
If I settle on the far side of the sea.
Even there Your hand will guide me.
Your right hand will hold me fast. -Psalm 139:7-10
Your right hand holds me fast
In laughter and strength
And in that awful crisis moment
And in every little thing that just doesn’t add up quite right.
Redemption came cause I needed it.
So I’m wondering why I default to shame over just being honest.
And I wonder what
Would look like with a little more honesty
a little less pride
and a whole lot more of the right hand of God,
Holding us fast.
In every moment we find ourselves in.