When Your Heart Sinks

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.” (Psalm 77:1-6 ESV).

 

My hope is that you have never had one of those moments… the phone call... the knock on the door... the doctor’s words… the death pronouncement. However, if you have lived any of life you will be like so many of us and can easily remember times in our lives when you received news that you immediately knew would change the course of your future. Waves of dread ran through your bodies, and you could barely stand. Your heart sank. All you could think was “Oh, God!”

 

That’s the context of our reading today. I have had those moments. I’m often reminded that is simply a part of living over seven decades on our broken world; however, there must be more to the follower of Christ. For us, calling out to our God, who is the source of our life and strength and hope ought to be the natural response to shock, fear, disbelief, and grief. The psalmist says, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart” (v. 6). Sometimes “Oh, God!” is all we can say as our mind races and our world blurs; however, that is our 911 call to the God of the universe.

 

One of the wonderful things about the Psalms is that, by example, we are granted permission to cry out to God in desperation. It’s human to fear death when we’re diagnosed with cancer. And it’s human to want to die when we lose a precious child or spouse. God’s people are not required to be stoic in difficult times. Instead, we are invited to collapse into the arms of God, who will hold us tightly, catch our tears, and carry us through whatever lies ahead.

 

The writer of this psalm does not rush to resolution but lingers in the distress and sleeplessness of overwhelming grief. He merely asks God to help and to hear. And that’s more than enough. In the coming days I will be writing about how that can happen. In the “thick-middle” of your pain, God is there. I hope to help you find all of Him!