Psalm 74

Here is the psalm of my distress; here is my nightmare
Where is my peace? Where is my God? Does God exist?
God’s place in my heart, in my life, in my confidence
Is looking pretty damn desolate, destroyed, debased
Where is God’s holy place in my interior castle
Where has that great cloud of witnesses gone
Oh the imagery of the psalm is the imagery of my soul
The imagery of my deepest, darkest fears
My life, my belief, my trust, my faith and my hope
Line by line, verse by verse, this psalm limns my despair
My peace is hacked to anguished restlessness
My faith is hammered to dust
My hope is smashed, shattered
My life is ashes
The worst in me out shouts the best
The darkness in me blinds the light
Why does bitterness not start with a D?
God, oh God, where are You? Are You real?
How am I to go on believing, hoping, trusting
The psalmist has me turn to God’s creation
Seas and streams, night and day, crushed monsters
The psalmist may be impatient but never in doubt
Fearlessly, she calls to her God
Reminding her God of the power and the promise
Bold enough to command God
Do not forget the life of this poor person forever
So I turn to the psalmist
Though my world is dark and full of the violence of disbelief
And I borrow the courage of the psalmist to command God
Rise up in my mind, rise up in my heart, rise up in my spirit
That I may rise again and praise You. Amen

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