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Two Psalms—part one, part two—only sixteen verses…

Why are you cast down, O my soul?

And why are you disquieted within me?


That question again,

but isn’t it obvious why my spirit sags?

When God is silent, waiting, testing,

granting the evil one closer access,

allowing injuries, withholding answers…

Her circumstances differ from the Psalmist’s,

the shepherd-king in exile;

still, she understands reaching helplessly for what is not hers,

longing for the taste of sweetness once enjoyed,

but unable to change the present

or hurry the future,

to force God’s hand, attempting to push the unmovable,

wringing answers from the One all-knowing.


He is not inattentive, though,

as much of His work is done beyond the realm of what is visible, tangible,

because He sees the entire masterpiece, knows what is needed,

nudges us forward, even when His Light appears dim—

this need of greater Faith.

Although she wavers, tempted to believe the lies,

she continues to read the lines,

seeing the message chronicled in letters and spelled between the lines,

words of prospect pulsating on the page,

all the while hearing

the gentle whispers nudging her to Trust…

Hope in God;

For I shall yet praise Him,

The help of my countenance and my God.


I do need help… I know I need help…

It only feels like He’s deserted her,

yet, she is knowing, feelings can’t be fully trusted.

For You are the God of my strength;

Why do You cast me off?

Palpable this sense of forgotten-ness, aloneness,

the grief of whispered lies, pretense,

injustices, subtle insults, hypocrisy,

being pounded into the ground as each wave hits

of disappointing setbacks, rejection…

a blanket of misery descends, darkening the path before her,

obscuring the future.


Vindicate me, O God… plead my cause… deliver me…

There are times in the lives of fallen creatures,

when only she can push through the pain,

press past those coming against her,

whether real or imagined

refusing to let the enemy gain advantage,

in any way, no matter how small.

As in childbirth,

others can support, but only she can bear down,

do the hardest work

to receive the greatest reward.

No one can do this for me.

Others have been where I am,

encased in fog, delirium surrounding, fear hovering.

But in focusing on the words before her,

in accepting truths not fully experienced,

Reading and re-reading,

realization dawns, the Holy Spirit takes her hand,

draws her into the Light, opens her eyes to Truth,

pain subsides, darkness is chased away,

depression no longer holds on.

I can hope in the Giver of hope.

All else is only an illusion…

But the entrance of His Words gives Light, she remembers.


Oh, send out Your light and Your truth!

Let them lead me.

Understanding swells,

Holy presence felt, as His ear bends to acknowledge her heart’s cry…

 As He favors her with His countenance,

distress melts, sorrow fades,

impatience turns to knowing, acceptance,

tears exchanged for praise.

 Then I will go to the altar of God,

To God my exceeding joy;

And on the harp I will praise You,

O God, my God.

Notes of a familiar song play in the background of her mind…

naturally her lips form the words,

her face lifts in a smile,

and Worship begins…

Thirst is quenched, yet increases more

for more of Him.

 Why are you cast down, O my soul?

And why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God;

For I shall yet praise Him,

The help of my countenance and my God.


Why? Why do I doubt?

In Trusting, in Hoping,

defeat surrenders to Triumph

(over anxious thoughts, desperate emotions)

revealing light onto another of her darkest hours.

And once again she avows,

scribbling on the page beside the Psalms:

With God there is no such thing as a hopeless situation.