Psalm 77: Suspending My Disbelief, Sustaining My Hope

When all that was vibrant and teaming with life

feels like pewter plate–heavy and dull;

When the duties of worker and mother and wife

leave me hollowed, a beaten-down hull;

Your Word is a light flick’ring fast in the gloom,

and Your Wind blows a life-giving breeze through my desolate room.

 

The bow which caresses the string strokes a lingering tone

which hangs on the air with a tremulous trust.

The Word suspends each spinning sphere on a track of its own,

and their circular dance shapes the seasons for us.

 

When I can’t feel my pulse for the numbness inside,

and my heart is a stone in my chest;

When I’ve run out of salt for the tears that I’ve cried,

and my sleep is too heavy for rest;

I’ll remember the God who created this clay,

Who crafted with purpose each numbered, deliberate day.

 

And I know Peter’s feet found a footpath on top of the waves…

and he took a few steps till he faltered and sank like a stone.

Help me stand on Your Word that it isn’t my willing that saves–

help me trust in Your promises– firmer than all of my own.

 

When I don’t see the point of the things that I’ve planned,

and I shudder and tear up the list;

When I fear that what’s under my floor is just sand,

and I can’t see my feet for the mist,

I remember the beam that’s supporting my weight

is the wood of the cross where You hung to reverse my sad fate.

 

And I know that the Red Sea was parted, and Jericho fell,

and that Lazarus lived, and an angel appeared in a cell.

And I stand on Your words when my own are all crumbled to dust.

And Your promise upholds me when there’s nothing else I can trust.