Psalms

We look at the Word of God as sacred, divinely imparted and revered. We even look at it as an instruction manual of sorts. Some look at it as a historical document, a biographical and cultural record. Some might even see it in a literary light. I do, especially when I consider the Psalms.

I must admit that Psalms is my favorite book of the Bible. It’s poetry. If David was a man after God’s own heart, does that mean that God has the heart of a poet?

I appreciate the wistful imagery:

Wither shall I go from thy spirit? Or wither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me (Psalm 139:7-10).

I’m moved by David’s heart-wrenching pleading with God:

Lord, I cry unto thee: make haste unto me; give ear unto my voice, when I cry unto thee (Psalm 141:1).

Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications . . . My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say more than they that watch for the morning (Psalm 130:1-2, 6).

He totally pours himself out to God. He’s honest. He’s literally shouting, “God! Are you listening to me?” And in those raw moments of unabashed vulnerability before the Lord, I find the most hauntingly beautiful poetry. “Don’t beg God for it, believe Him for it.” Sure. I know David believed in God as the deliverer out of the hand of his enemies. But even David didn’t suck it up and stoically believe:

I cried unto the Lord with my voice; with my voice unto the Lord did I make my supplication. I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble (Psalm 142:1-2).

Yeah. He complained to God. He even (gasp!) questioned God:

Why standest thou afar off, O Lord? Why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble? (Psalm 10: 1)

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? (Psalm 22:1)

Questioning God is not audacious. It’s human. Reading these verses gives me melancholy pangs of recognition as I, too, have pled with and questioned God. But Psalms also gives me hope that in doing so, I can draw closer to Him.