There is nothing that makes me feel as small and insignificant as the powerful, endless roar of the ocean waves as they come crashing onto the shore.
I was reading Psalm 42 today and was moved by the poetic words but even more by the message the words deposited into my mind and spirit.
This Psalm expresses the agonizing cry of one overcome by life's trouble and heartache.
"Deep calls unto deep" -- there is no help , only sorrow calling for more sorrow until the billowing waves pour over the sufferer threatening to crush what is left of a fragile life.
This Psalm is the WHY, O WHY ? cried by those who see their hopes and dreams lying dead at their feet.
Yet, no matter how deep the storm that rages, no matter how powerful the emotional tsunami, no matter how dark the horizon appears, no matter how hopeless tomorrow looks ... there is One who is our Rock to cling to .
"Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God,
for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance."
But that was not the verse that my heart focused on this morning. Though I have read this Psalm many times I never really noticed the poignant sweetness of verse eight.
It says ....
"The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime,
and in the night His song shall be with me.... a prayer to the God of my life."
When we are going through difficult trials of life, how often have we dreaded the coming night, knowing that fear and anxiety lurk there. In the night when we are so aware of being alone, our troubled mind and aching heart keeps us awake. We see no answers to our need, find nothing to soothe our raging emotion. In the dark of night there is no light, only magnified shadows that terrify.
But there is this ... "In the night His song shall be with me... "
I find it significant that the Hebrew word for 'song' here is in the feminine.
Does that not immediately bring to the mind a mother singing to her infant?
A child waking at night cries out and the listening mother, immediately hears the cry and gathering the child to her bosom, she softly sings her lullaby. The child's fears melt, it nestles in the warmth of his mother's arms, comforted and safe. What tender expression of love is the picture of a child being rocked to sleep by his mother's lullaby.
That is what God is telling us here ... No matter how dark our night, He is there to sing His lullaby over us - His lullaby becoming a prayer in our hearts, birthing hope for the 'morrow! All is well, for He is our life!