…that my glory may sing your praise. Psalm 30:12
I paused here.
The psalmist, David, is speaking of himself when he speaks of glory. Our stories of overcoming are what contributes to our glory? I’m on day two of contemplating this.
Last week I used Romans 8:28 as a password then quickly thought oh, you better not do that, you’ll invite trouble or sorrow to solidify the verse…all things work together for good for His glory.
This errant thinking is the thinking of one who sometimes forgets grace, healing, forgiveness and it is a ploy of the enemy of my soul.
I’m remembering now, a helpful self-thought.
Jesus would never talk to you this way, would never stir such fearful, worrisome, dreadful emotions. Be certain.
Twice in the past few days, my words have been few. I typed and deleted, moved pen from the paper, decided a little was enough.
A card with the words “Psalm 23” printed and underneath, “love, Lisa”.
I woke at 2:48 on Sunday night, the mystery of 3:00 a.m. again. My chest was heavy, but sorrowful, not startled.
There was no rapid beat, only a noticeable bearing down.
I was still as I acknowledged all the recent conversations that God was sifting in my sleep, helping me make sense and accept His peace.
I told a friend about a conversation with someone in fresh grief. They asked “How are they?”
I replied, “Well, when I left, I paused in my car, looked forward and saw that my face was lined black with mascara.”
Then I told them I don’t cry easily. This surprised my friends.
On Monday, I searched for a favorite Psalm, one I’d read aloud some years ago, tears not stopping the verses’ promised song, Psalm 30, a psalm of David.
Many are mourning. I’m only an observer touched by the sorrow of others.
I know the promise is true, the one that promises dancing from mourning.
I know it’s a long journey, one of patience with self because of our patient and loving God.
I know that healing comes. Quite often, I require a reminder.
Psalm 30 is that.
For me, maybe you.
“I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me. O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.
O Lord, you have brought up my soul from Sheol; you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit. Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” By your favor, O Lord, you made my mountain stand strong; you hid your face; I was dismayed. To you, O Lord, I cry, and to the Lord I plead for mercy: “What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me! O Lord, be my helper!” You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!”
Psalm 30:1-12 ESV
A second friend whose father was a friend and a father figure to me spoke of her grief in this season. I’m no expert on grief, I assure you.
But, she said what felt like truth and comfort and evidence of her patience with herself in her journey. I may not quote her exactly, just the gist of it.
Grief never goes away, our lives just become more full around its center.
Be easy on yourself. God surely is.