"I feel like Lucy Pevensie's siblings in Prince Caspian: following her because I cannot see who she sees; not even quite daring to believe she has actually seen him, either; taking direction more from knowing that I lack any other way forward than from knowing God himself."
Should I take comfort that I have finally entered into the dark night of the soul, as opposed to the mere self-neglect that has heretofore been the primary constant within my spiritual walk?
| Like the deer that yearns for running streams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God. My soul is thirsting for God, the living God; when can I enter and appear before the face of God? My tears have become my bread, by day, by night, as they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” These things will I remember as I pour out my soul: For I would go to the place of your wondrous tent, all the way to the house of God, amid cries of gladness and thanksgiving, the throng keeping joyful festival. Why are you cast down, my soul; why groan within me? Hope in God; I will praise him yet again, my saving presence and my God. My soul is cast down within me, therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and Mount Hermon, from the Hill of Mizar. Deep is calling on deep, in the roar of your torrents; your billows and all your waves swept over me. By day the LORD decrees his merciful love; by night his song is with me, prayer to the God of my life. I will say to God, my rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning oppressed by the foe?” With a deadly wound in my bones, my enemies revile me, saying to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” Why are you cast down, my soul; why groan within me? Hope in God; I will praise him yet again, my saving presence and my God. - Ps 42 |
with a thirst brought on by not finding water for desperate days on end though sometimes I mistake things far less than you for the object of my desire I look for sustenance from the wrong sources, from the very gifts with which you have graced me. This false bread can never sustain me. Only you can satisfy I remember the days when the simple act of praising you was sufficient to lift my spirit, to allow me to hope in you why does even praising you fail to bring me comfort? it is this vocation for which I am created. yet I will not stop praising merely because it brings no relief; indeed, you are no less worthy of my praise, and praising you is still your gift to me. the depths of my thirst long to drink from the depths of your love. as well they should. Indeed, I revile myself. yes, I shall praise you all my days, each day that you grant me, though hope itself should seem to abandon me. |
Perhaps I can find a crumb of comfort in knowing that Jesus himself prayed this Psalm.
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