Often when I read the Psalms I find Jesus in some surprising places. I’ll be reading along, caught up in how intimately the Psalms seem to speak into my humanity and what it means to stumble along in this enigmatic thing we call “Christianity;” and suddenly, a verse will catch me a bit off guard. Psalm 49 is one of those Psalms.

Sometimes I forget how good my Father is to me. Honestly, it does get hard to praise him. I do not understand why it gets so hard. Sometimes I just feel off.  WHY DO I FEEL THIS WAY?

Believer, are you in a season of persecution or opposition? Have you been wrongfully accused despite your innocence? If not now, have you before? And if not yet, are you prepared for it to come?

In contemplating the brokenness of our world and humanity, people in all times and places seem to have a sense that this is just not the way it’s supposed to be. I often think little children are more honest about this reality than most adults. Surely we can all think of a time we have personally witnessed a child at the store wail as if his very life were in jeopardy upon hearing, “No, we aren’t buying this toy today.”

Thanksgiving lifts our eyes to God in a new way.

Many of the psalms cry out to God, asking Him to grant us favor or to save us from our distress. This one says: Thank You, God. Following a psalm requesting from God to Bless the King, we see in the 21st psalm that He has done that, and David writes a psalm of thanksgiving and worship.

Ah, the fools. What sad people they must be as they wander through life saying in their heart, “there is no God.” How comforting to have a Psalm that reminds us how much wiser we are because we know God is real. Don’t you wish you could forward this Psalm to someone who has wronged you and doesn’t believe in God? They probably wouldn’t listen. Fools. 

Psalm 7 is a cry of distress from David to the LORD when David had been treated unfairly and criticized.  This psalm makes is clear the danger stems from the malice of the persecutors, and not from the wrongdoing of the person in trouble.  

Have you ever been around someone who simply exhibits and demonstrates the presence of God in their lives by their understanding, their way of living and their words on a consistent basis. It is as if their ability to “Praise God” easily rolls off their tongue? And not in some pious or weird way, but in a genuine desire to praise God in all situations, all conversations, all events taking place.  I have, and you might have as well.  Encountering such people is both encouraging and convicting at the same time. 

I don’t know if I could say that I’ve ever been truly thirsty.

I’ve never lived the scene from every stranded-in-the-desert movie I’ve ever seen where the guy with the chapped lips squeezes his canteen (it’s usually canvas) for every ounce of water it’s worth only to mostly miss his mouth, weakly collapse in the sand, and succumb to despair.

I don't know about you, but reading through the Old Testament makes Psalm 136 come to life. We have read, listened to, and discussed these stories. And now we know more of what the psalmist is referring to as he recounts the ways God has shown up in history. The repetitious phrase "for His steadfast love natures forever" seems to emphasize the motive of all of God's actions. 

Psalm 129 is interesting. We may find ourselves a little uneasy with the “victim role” taken up by the psalmist in the first few verses; kind of whiny isn’t it? Probably even further removed from our modern sensibilities, we cringe a bit at the thought of calling down curses on our enemies (vv. 5-8). But I think we all too often overlook, ignore or pass by the parts of the Psalter that strike us as strange or weird or archaic; preferring instead the “nice” parts, or the penitent parts (to help us wrestle with sin), or even the violent parts as long as they predict Christ in explicit ways. But the whining, cursing voice we find in Psalm 129? This is surely a Psalm we can do without right?

Slipping off my sandals, I remember approaching the place of worship. It was on the edge of the Sahara desert and our shoes were removed to show respect for our God. The walls were not glorious--they were made with millet stalks--yet it was most definitely the house of the Lord.

Read Psalm 119:33-64, then join us in prayer. 

Lord,

Bring us toward you. 

I confess that my tank feels pretty low as I write. I want to feel these words. I want to be in awe, to be as the psalmist in overflowing repetitious reverence for God. I just feel dry. My heart feels restless and my body feels exhausted. I don’t feel stirred up to praise and feel that any semblance of it would take a mustered up effort.

The first lines of Psalm 106 are like a warm blanket for the believer’s soul. They are words that get made into memory verses and put on posters.  It might even remind of you a popular worship song Forever.  Those words are stirring and are absolutely worth celebrating, but if you leave the psalm after the first three verses you miss the depth in this declaration.  You miss the worship of God in the midst of confession. 

When I was 17, the church I attended placed a new pastor. He was different from any pastor I’d known – a man truly focused on applying his faith to everyday life and not just to Sunday worship service. He led mine and my wife’s pre-marital counseling and presided over our wedding. He shepherded me during the loss of my dad. He was with me at the hospital on a Christmas eve and Christmas morning for my wife’s emergency surgery. He helped me field dress my first deer. He taught me a lot of lessons, one of which included his belief that God was the author of everything good in my life. 

When you’re sitting on the couch, a cup of your favorite beverage in your hand, quietly listening to music, you may find it easier to say along with the psalmist: It is good to praise the Lord.  But let’s just be honest, most mornings look a little more like ours did this morning: dishes piled in the sink, child bent on a spoon that is nowhere to be found, running late for work (and just plain not wanting to go to work) and then your child’s apple juice goes everywhere which brings a flood of tears - and let’s just be honest, things didn’t get any better with each passing minute.

Have you ever wondered to yourself: “Why is this happening to me?”

Of course you have, because you're human and you don’t live in a cave – and if you do live in a cave, you are probably thinking “why is this happening to me?” right now.

There are many reasons bad things happen to people, not the least of which is the fact that the world we live in is still drenched in evil and brokenness. But Psalm 85 isn’t about the consequences of someone else's evil. It is a collective recognition of personal wrong doing.

The Scriptures are clear that we are to remember the works that the Lord has done. To call to mind who He is, what He has promised, and the things He has done is a spiritual discipline that is sure to fertilize our faith and grow our confidence and trust in the dry and weary seasons that we will all inevitably face. When we remember what God has done in the past, we can have trust with confidence in what he will do both now and in the future. Psalm 78 elaborates on this idea, teaching us that the act of remembering.

Keep your head on a swivel.

Have you heard that phrase before? I use that saying when I’m coaching my son in flag football. As a defensive safety, he must spy the quarterback in case he decides to pull the ball down and run, know where the receivers are so they don’t get behind him, and watch for the frantic traffic of his own teammates flying around trying to make plays. Keeping your head on a swivel is maintaining multiple perspectives all at the same time.