I grew up singing songs about rejoicing in the Lord always (and again I say, “rejoice!” – often in rounds) and the joy of the Lord being my strength (He fills my soul with laughter – ha, ha, ha . . . ha, ha). As children of the Lord, we were admonished to have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in our hearts (where?).
Even now, thinking of these songs brings a smile to my face (and lights the fire to sing every verse of them as loudly as I can right now here at my desk; though I will refrain, as my daughter is doing school in the next room and will not be overjoyed to hear 42-year-old me belting it out).
I love the joy of the Lord. I have sought and found the joy of the Lord throughout difficult seasons in my life. Though I’m no longer a pigtailed little girl singing rounds of these songs with my friends, joy is still one of my favorite topics. I know that we are to do everything without grumbling or arguing (Philippians 2:14), and we are also told to rejoice always (Philippians 4:4).
But I have found, as an adult, that living as a human in a sinful world often produces icky feelings in me. I struggle with hurt and rejection and pain, and yet, I know complaining constantly doesn’t glorify God. (Not to mention that it annoys the people around me and drags everyone else down, which goes against all I want to be and do.) I don’t appreciate people who complain all of the time, quite honestly. And I don’t want to be one of these people.
And yet, I also don’t want to deny what I’m going through. I don’t want to put on a mask and pretend that life is easy and always fun. Because not only does that negatively impact my own mental health, it also confuses those in my sphere of influence. If I’m not honest about the challenges I face, then those who are watching will feel all alone when they, too, face struggles. When people see me, I want them to see a genuine person. Sometimes, life is genuinely hard. And I am genuinely heartbroken.
So how do we honestly grapple with real-life hurts and feelings in a way that leads us to the joy of the Lord (instead of down the road to bitterness)? There are many examples we could follow, but this morning, I read Psalm 102, and I was struck by how the anonymous author seems to do just this.
He starts out in verses 1-11, just telling God how he feels:
Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry come to you! Do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress! Incline your ear to me; answer me speedily in the day when I call!
For my days pass away like smoke, and my bones burn like a furnace. My heart is struck down like grass and has withered; I forget to eat my bread. Because of my loud groaning my bones cling to my flesh.
I am like a desert owl of the wilderness, like an owl of the waste places; I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop. All the day my enemies taunt me; those who deride me use my name for a curse.
For I eat ashes like bread and mingle tears with my drink, because of your indignation and anger; for you have taken me up and thrown me down. My days are like an evening shadow; I wither away like grass.
What do you think about this? The author here is not holding back. His heart has withered. He feels like a desert owl of the wilderness, like a lonely sparrow on the housetop. He eats ashes and cries into his drink. He is not singing, I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart (where?). He’s being real.
And yet, he doesn’t stop here. If he did stop here, he may be merely complaining. Though it does help to talk things through with a trusted friend and to pray about the things that stretch us or break us, I love seeing what the author does next in order to move forward.
In verses 1-11, he looks around him and talks about what he sees. In the rest of the chapter, however, he looks up to what he cannot yet see with his own eyes but what he knows to be true about the One who is greater than all that he faces.
But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever; you are remembered throughout all generations. You will arise and have pity on Zion; it is the time to favor her; the appointed time has come.
For your servants hold her stones dear and have pity on her dust. Nations will fear the name of the Lord, and all the kings of the earth will fear your glory. For the Lord builds up Zion; he appears in his glory; he regards the prayer of the destitute and does not despise their prayer.
Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord: that he looked down from his holy height; from heaven the Lord looked at the earth, to hear the groans of the prisoners, to set free those who were doomed to die, that they may declare in Zion the name of the Lord, and in Jerusalem his praise, when peoples gather together, and kingdoms, to worship the Lord.
He has broken my strength in midcourse; he has shortened my days. “O my God,” I say, “take me not away in the midst of my days—you whose years endure throughout all generations!”
Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end.
The children of your servants shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you.
I know this goes on for a bit, but so do we when we’re trying to work through situations and process them. And what I love is how the author of this psalm lays out where he is emotionally, tells God what he’s going through. What we go through is real. It is hard. We do need help. This is a genuine explanation of what the author is feeling, but then the author remembers who God is, what God has done, and has faith in what God will bring forth in the future.
Do you see what I see? (Another song altogether, but I digress.) Do you see how the author goes from disillusioned and heartbroken to encouraged and joyful? He doesn’t get there by ignoring his own hurts. No, he first acknowledges his pain, but then he moves forward by acknowledging God’s sovereign might.
What we feel is important, but it’s not all there is. It is healthy to acknowledge how we feel, but it is equally necessary to look up through eyes of faith and acknowledge that there is always more going on than we can see or even understand.
Our feelings, our struggles, are only a part of the story. They are not the whole truth. God’s word, however, is truth. It will endure long after our trials on this earth have ended.
Maybe it’s just me, but I see a road here from discouraged to faith-filled, from heartache to joy in the Lord. It begins with a genuine call to God, a laying it all at His feet in prayer. And it continues by remembering God’s faithfulness and praising Him for what He has already done and what He is yet to do.
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