"Has God forgotten to be gracious?"

(As it turns out, planning to finish an article on Jesus' resurrection that carefully places it in the context of God's plans for us and the whole world in one week was a bit too ambitious. These are topics that I'm extremely passionate about and will continue contemplating and working on. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the following entry on one of my favorite psalms.)

The day after I moved into a new apartment, I discovered how slippery bathtubs can be. While taking a shower in my small bathroom, I fell backwards and hit my head against a wall. It barely hurt, and I was about an inch away from hitting my head against an edge that could have seriously injured me. The very first thing I thought, which I also said aloud, was “Thank you so much, God.” I've had many similar close calls in the last few years, including a serious car malfunction while I was driving on a slow road when I had been driving on a busy, curvy road a minute before. I've chosen to believe that God has had a hand in keeping me safe, and every time something like this happens I immediately feel gratitude toward Him. “I'll never forget this moment,” I tell myself, “and will always be thankful for what You have done for me.” As time passes, though, this thought tends to wear off.

I think we can all remember at least one period of time where nothing seemed like it was going right, that there was no hope. Our problems so overwhelm our minds and emotions that they become a central part of our identity day by day. Worst case scenario, our faith is seriously damaged because of our troubles. And at the best, it can still be very difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel, persevere until things get better, and put on a brave face in front of other people as we do so. No matter how many times we tell ourselves that our attitudes will improve the more we confide and trust in God, it's hard to remember that God is still with us, taking care of us. 

As often happens, I find a new way of approaching my problems in the Book of Psalms. There is a reason why the Psalms have been so well-loved and turned to in prayer and meditation. Together, I think that these poems express the full gamut of human emotions. Because of this, they have a remarkable ability to resonate with us in so many different stages of our lives.

In the last few months, Psalm 77 has been one that I have turned to again and again. It is written from the perspective of King David during a time of great difficulty, when it seemed that the god who had helped him so often in the past had finally given him up to the wolves. A feeling of awe at the author's poetic genius and insight is inevitable whenever I read its central verse. Rhetorical accusations against God follow one after another, relentlessly. They all appear to be building up to the conclusion that, yes, God has decided to leave David on his own and take back the promises of support that He had made to him. And then, out of the resentment and hopelessness comes the last line, like an unexpected beautiful sunrise after a long, dark night.

The rest of the psalm consists of an eloquent recollection of God's loving presence in the history of the people of Israel, particularly by watching over them and taking them out of slavery in Egypt. The psalm closes not with a list of grievances against God but with His glorification for all the things He has done.

God never gives up on us. He's always there for us to call upon, and He will always answer. He does not forget to love us unconditionally, in spite of how often we may forget to keep Him at the center of our lives. When we are going through difficulties, when loss, disappointments, and a sense of powerlessness seem to be the order of the day, it may seem like God has indeed shut up His compassion from us. Joy, blessings, and successes sometimes feel like things of the past. But no, says David. God has done great things for us before, and He will continue to do so in the future. 

Were David's problems in this psalm immediately solved by his epiphany that, as much as our grief and fears may change our perspective of life, God's love for us will never change? I doubt it. But I like to think this was his starting point for a period of prayer and perseverance, of a gratitude and love toward the Lord, that would help him through his hard times. I pray that all of us can experience a similar sense of God's presence working in our lives for the good. 

(This is the central verse of Psalm 77.)

“Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? 

Has His steadfast love forever ceased?

Are His promises at an end for all time? 

Has God forgotten to be gracious? 

Has He in anger shut up His compassion?”

And I say, “It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed.”