Psalm 56 Echo

~ Finding Peace on Dark Days ~

(Pondering Psalm 56)

Psalm 56:1-4 NIV

For the director of music. To the tune of “A Dove on Distant Oaks.” Of David.

A miktam. ^b When the Philistines had seized him in Gath.
https://biblehub.com/niv/psalms/56.htm

Be merciful to me, my God,

for my enemies are in hot pursuit;

all day long they press their attack.

My adversaries pursue me all day long;

in their pride many are attacking me.

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

In God, whose word I praise—

in God I trust and am not afraid.

What can mere mortals do to me
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How can David’s song inspire my day all these years later and as far removed by situation as by time.  I am not oppressed by enemies wanting to harm me.  I know others in my day are. I know that many in this very summer live in the palpable fear of being attacked by the covid19 pandemic and/or its accompanying crisis, while I live rather isolated in my comfortable home, cautious yet protected by family and friends willing to care about and shop for me. 

Yet I wonder if Psalms like this, while reminding of life threatening fear and suffering many endure, also hold a template to help express the agony of non lethal life struggles. 

Godde was certainly merciful to me when my enemy, death, was in hot pursuit and with one last hard pressed attack, won the battle. Removed the one who loved me more than any - and in so doing caused the self I knew, to die as well.  No. Physically I did not die. Yet in the twinkling of an eye, ALL changed for me as well.  Life norms, so long familiar within the safe circle of ‘we’ were now gone. I’d been transplanted into a foreign world whose terrain, customs and culture must be learned. Whose language I did not understand. 

So I found refuge in the safe embrace of the familiar home we built together - loathe to leave its walls and all the memories they held. So much the same, yet even here each room held an ’elephant’ named silence. Deathly quiet formed a huge black hole, a vacant void holding the deafening echo of John’s absence, his missing presence.  It seemed only half a home without our mingled voices.

——

Now over three years on this path of being on my own. Of being ‘me’ - no longer ‘we’ - I’m finding ‘home’ again.  Still rooted in the old yet discovering new skills and interests, (while honing the old) polishing emerging gifts, learning new ways, embracing the joy of solitude.  At first, alone and lost in the void, unable to focus even on reading a book - which had always been my escape and rescue - I grabbed the only other lifeline within reach.  I began to fill a page with words - another long loved habit/hobby. I’d often written notes to myself in an effort to sort out the chaos inherent in raising our wonderful boisterous growing family. In thinking through the best way to respond to unexpected questions and challenges. It had become a pattern for reflecting on life and truth. 

As I wrote and pondered, the loss didn’t go away, but out of it, new gifts appeared. Small skills developed. Poems popped up.  A dream to share them was born.  I felt thankful, not for death - which by now I had accepted, but for silent time to read, think and write to my heart’s content - which did flow from death’s wake.  I am now thankful for this new life to which I've been transplanted and for all I’m finding here. Thankful also for this era of online media where one’s work can so readily be shared and find a home. And most of all, for the joy of writing born anew.

Thankful for friends and family far and near, including those online I will never meet in person, yet whose writing and voices steadily sustain.  And for my Godde whose Love encases all, who holds me safe with frequent rescue and guides me back when wandering. When I am afraid, I put my trust in Godde whose Word I praise — in whom I trust and therefore need not be afraid. 

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When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

In God, whose word I praise—

in God I trust and am not afraid.

What can mere mortals do to me

 (Ps 56:3-4 NIV)

JoMae

7/25/20

Today's reflection prompted by Psalm 56