Some days, that’s all you got.
I have been spending quite a bit of time in the Psalms. More and more of that time is spent in Eugene Peterson’s, The Message. He gives words to my soul. Today it is Psalm 77 and it’s all I got.
I yell out to my God,
I yell with all my might,
I yell at the top of my lungs.
He listens.
I found myself in trouble
and went looking for my Lord;
my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.
When friends said,
“Everything will turn out all right,”
I didn’t believe a word they said.
I remember God — and shake my head.
I bow my head — then wring my hands.
I’m awake all night — not a wink of sleep;
I can’t even say what’s bothering me.
I go over the days one by one,
I ponder the years gone by.
I strum my lute all through the night,
wondering how to get my life together.
Will the Lord walk off and leave us for good?
Will he never smile again?
Is his love worn threadbare?
Has his salvation promise burned out?
Has God forgotten his manners?
Has he angrily stalked off and left us?
“Just my luck,” I said.
“The High God goes out of business just the moment I need him.”
Once again I’ll go over what GOD has done,
lay out on the table the ancient wonders;
I’ll ponder all the things you’ve accomplished,
and give a long, loving look at your acts.
O God!
Your way is holy!
No god is great like God!
You’re the God who makes things happen;
you showed everyone what you can do —
You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble,
rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph.
Ocean saw you in action, God,
saw you and trembled with fear;
Deep Ocean was scared to death.
Clouds belched buckets of rain,
Sky exploded with thunder,
your arrows flashing this way and that.
From Whirlwind came your thundering voice,
Lightning exposed the world,
Earth reeled and rocked.
You strode right through Ocean,
walked straight through roaring Ocean,
but nobody saw you come or go.
Hidden in the hands of Moses and Aaron,
You led your people like a flock of sheep.” (Psalm 77, The Message)