If you read Psalm 13 you might find it striking that 2/3 of the poem is focused on the struggle. Giving voice to the pain. Expressing the frustration and worry.
They are the words of a beaten down, tired soul longing for an end to the storms and darkness that seem to dominate his life.
Perhaps they are words you are crying, too. Perhaps you know someone for whom you cry this. “How long, O Lord?”
Only 1/3 – at the end – is about hope. Which is the way so much of life can be. Lots of struggle and having to strain forward and often wait before there is hope. Sometimes the circumstances of the moment simply are overwhelming. They pull us under and bash us around.
I get very impatient with religious circles where it seems everything has to be about neatly combed hair, well-polished smiles and everyone sitting in a nice row in Sunday best; where it’s all about triumph and blessing and happy. So NOT REAL. Nor what God wants.
We are the hands and feet of Jesus that reach out and steady those who are stumbling, hug those that are out of gas, and walk alongside those that are discouraged.
No skimming past the struggles. No hurrying to patch together solutions. No trying to stick a Band-Aid on the wound, or silence the cries. Just being there for each other. The way Jesus was there for people when he was here on earth.
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