My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
and by night, but find no rest.
Yet you are holy,
enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted;
they trusted, and you delivered them.
To you they cried, and were saved;
in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.
This is a very ancient and mysterious psalm. Over years, the name of the author and the circumstances he faced has all been forgotten, but his words survived… they were carefully handed down from one generation to another. Over the years, humanity has found a deep meaning in this unsettling poetry.
In the news this week, we have heard of earthquakes, hunger, riots, and fear. Every year, Kira and I try to find ways to help those in need, but this can become overwhelming. What good are my gifts in a world filled with so much suffering? When I read Psalm 22, I read the honest confession of someone who was completely overwhelmed. The poet was losing all faith in God. However, even in the darkness, the poet still finds himself entangled with God’s love. That honest and haunting image has brought meaning and hope to countless generations.
Logistically, I do not know the best way to help the people in Nepal, Syria, or Baltimore. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s even worth it to read the newspaper in the morning… what good will it do? However, I also find stories of love each week. I find stories of hope. Wherever we are, I believe we can find ways to love and support those who are feeling forsaken. I also believe that love will have a ripple effect, and that is what the world needs.
|In the darkness, we need love...|
|Finding hope in Baltimore...|