Thursday before Proper 8: Psalm 77:1-2
Reading: Psalm 77:1-2
I wake up like this a lot.
When I first realized I was dealing with depression in my life, I discovered that for years I’d been falling asleep to deeply troubling thoughts and visions. Now a few years into treatment, I can run into them at any time of day. “Hooray, treatment,” you’re thinking. It’s not like that. A big part of the treatment process was getting better at listening to my mind and body—probably I’d been fighting off stuff during the day before treatment, too.
The worst for me these days is to wake up in despair. They say that making your bed is a great way to start the day because it’s a relatively quick way to start the day off with an accomplishment. Conversely, waking up existentially dis-motivated is a soul-crushing way to start the day. In those moments I resonate with the psalmist: I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.
Fortunately, that’s not most of the time. What troubles me is that it is pretty foreign from how Christians communicate their lives to each other. Roughly 1/3 of the psalms are laments. When was the last time you heard a lament in church?
How are you able to express your own struggles in your community of faith?
Is that something you generally wrestle with on your own until you’re “good again”?
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