Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your
hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
Psalm 42:5
“I’m inside, outside, upside, downside happy
all the time.”
I
have the joy of serving as the children’s minister at my church. For anyone who
has ever worked with kids, you know that “happy-ness” is too often a
prerequisite for doing your job. So what are we to do when something painful
happens that knocks us out? Should we just suck it up and be happy? As the song
says above, are we truly to be happy all the time?
I
don’t think so. If you read through the Psalms you find David (and other
writers) being incredibly honest about their struggles. I think God has given
us that freedom as well.
But
ultimately, and perhaps most difficultly, God asks us to give up our right to
let grief define our life. What do I mean? The example of Job offers us a
lesson in picking ourselves up from this grief. Job complained to God, and
ultimately God called him to praise. Job had to let it out and then give up
that right to dwell.
And
this is what I feel that God has been teaching me. In a lot of ways he has
given me a break, allowed me to heal as he did his work around me. But now he
is asking me to follow, he is asking me to serve.
In
the past few years, Psalms 42 and 43 have been increasingly meaningful to me,
especially the refrain “Yet will I praise you, my King and my God.” In times of
extreme pain I have found my soul crying out these words as I wrestle with God.
I can’t always see his plan, but my faith demands that I praise him.
Uttering
the words of the psalmist, following the path of Job, can cause incredible pain
and result in great sacrifice. God has not fulfilled a very honest and biblical
desire of my heart, the desire for a child. As I grieve over this loss, I find
myself unable to leave the Father’s presence. And that’s a great place to be,
but ultimately it demands that I give up my selfish desires.
“Yet
will I praise you” demands that I rest. It doesn’t take the pain away, but it
takes away my right to let that grief overtake me. And ultimately the peace of
God replaces the grief. It doesn’t happen over night, but it does happen.
That’s why it’s a sweet sacrifice.
Father, guide us by your presence
into your rich peace.
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