The hours at Justin’s bedside drag by painfully and with an acute awareness of breathing dry, sterile air and the bustling sternness sprinkled with forced cheerfulness that defines the staff on the children’s oncology floor. I find myself still praying the Psalms, either reciting, in my mind, verses I’ve memorized or grabbing a quick read here and there.
I’m always enthralled with how the psalmist cried out, complained, spoke words of anger and despair then pointed to his hope in God all in one seeming breath. There are also Psalms that end abruptly, the Psalmist still in anguish and pleading for the presence of the Lord.
And this is all okay with God. For he ordained the Psalms as part of His holy word and referred to the chief psalmist as “a man after his own heart.” (Acts 13:22)
Being the perfect embodiment of a relational being, God just wants us to KEEP talking to Him, no matter what we have to say. I pour out my heart to Him, then borrow the words of the Psalms when my own are exhausted or just feel completely inadequate.
The following are several excerpts from Psalm 139 that I’m recounting from memory (and most assuredly are not word perfect) but help to guide the desires of my heart and prayer on my lips:
“You have searched me Lord and you know me…You hem me in behind and before. You lay your hand on me….Before a word is on my tongue, you know it completely, Lord…You knit me together in my mother’s womb…I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made…How marvelous are your works…Search me Lord and know my heart…see if there be any offensive way in me and lead me into the way of everlasting.”
Grace be with you, my friends.