Why are some days so full of hope and faith you can tangibly feel, and other days seem void of any promise or redemption? I told you that this was a journey and in a journey there are twists and detours that take you down deserted roads that lead to nowhere. So if you’re still wanting to join the journey, read on.
Psalm 119 :: The Message
25 I’m feeling terrible – I couldn’t feel worse! Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember? 26 When I told my story, you responded; train me well in your deep wisdom. 27 Help me understand these things inside and out so I can ponder your miracle-wonders. 28 My sad life’s dilapidated, a falling-down barn; build me up again by your Word. 29 Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation. 30 I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner. 31 I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me; God, don’t let me down! 32 I’ll run the course you lay out for me if you’ll just show me how. 33 God, teach me lessons for living so I can stay the course.
I’m still in pretty good pain from surgery, mostly around the main suture that refuses to close up. Last night I slept through without taking my pain meds. The pain in the morning pinned me to my bed like Joe B. did in fifth grade by the monkey bars while he pulverized me for accidentally stepping on his glasses (for the record, it was NOT an accident).
For the past 24 hours, I’ve felt unmotivated and unqualified to blog about anything that would inspire even myself, let alone someone visiting to gain some nugget of insight. In fact over the last day I’ve seen flattering blog comments, and I feel like an undeserving phony who has pulled off the ultimate scam.
Today there’s a picnic put on by the hospital to honor liver donors and recipients. I was asked to go but there was no way. Today, I don’t want to remember I’m a liver recipient. I don’t want to think about my medication schedule. I don’t want to look at that scar one more time. Today, I don’t want to be a part of this story.
When I look back over this I realize how self-pitiful it reads. I also know how gratifying it can be to focus on my internal pain, even though it is destructive and debilitating. So why do I do it? Maybe it’s the one thing I have control over, or maybe I think it earns attention or sympathy.
When I look at all the things that are waging war on my soul, there is only one that really stands a chance – and that is self-pity. Self-pity lies at the root of guilt and depression. Then again, when you read the Psalms like the one I started with today, you have to wonder why all those Psalms were included in the “Book of Life” in the first place. Talk about a pity party.
But I think I know why. When you read David crying out in desperation or anger, it’s always followed up with a sincere call for God’s rescue – and I know God hears an honest, vexed whisper over a memorized “prayer” at the top of my lungs every time.
So here’s my psalm. I’ll leave the insightful nugget up to you this time.