Psalm 12

6 And the words of the LORD are flawless,
like silver refined in a furnace of clay,
purified seven times.

I often feel cheesy when thinking about the promises of God. I perceive them to be slogans we print on mugs and Christian t shirts rather than beautiful and rare and pure and eternal. Flawless. They are perfect and absolute truths. There are no conditions or loopholes or strings attached. They bring life and restoration our lives and our world screams for.

Words like Zephaniah 3:17:
The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.

What words of God are bringing you life?

Psalm 11

3 When the foundations are being destroyed,

what can the righteous do?

4 The LORD is in his holy temple;

the LORD is on his heavenly throne.

He observes everyone on earth;

hi eyes examine them.

Lately, I have felt like my foundation of self-reliance and self-protection have been taken away.

I've been nervous, inarticulately moody, and sullen, unable to explain how or why I felt ravaged by guilt, fear, and anxiety.

I felt shaken, without a foundation.

After his rhetorical question, the psalmist assert what the foundation-less can do: know that the LORD is in his holy temple, on his heavenly throne. How frustrating is that?! The man without a foundation can do nothing but know. Know and trust that God is set apart by His goodness + justice + purity + mercy + power.

That "upright men will see his face" rather than illusions of self-importance and security.

Psalm 10

In his pride the wicked does not seek [the LORD];

in all his thoughts there is no room for God.

5 His ways are always prosperous; he is haughty and

you laws are far from him;

he sneers at all his enemies.

6 He says to himself, "Nothing will shake me;

I'll always be happy and never have trouble."

The psalmist continues to describe the wicked and how they oppress others. I identify most* with this man's pride, with a religious twist. I settle for what I already have: my faith in God. I don't seek out more of God. I don't yearn to be challenged or encounter God in new ways. I think that my relationship with God is all it'll ever be, as opposed to relationship that will continue to deepen and grow in beauty and intimacy as it ages. I assume God is finite and that I covered all the bases; I've got my theology down pat and I've already been transformed by God.

My narrow view of God and my complacency crowd out any room for God. Nothing will shake me; I'll always be happy and never have trouble.

*I am starting to see how I relate to this "wicked Psalm 10" man in other ways. He's not a cartoon villain twirling an outrageously curly mustache. He stalks victims in ambush: how often do I wait for people to make mistakes and sin just to silently judge them? He murders the innocent: Is it murder if I'd rather spend 20 dollars on a new shirt I don't need than on helping someone have clean water for 20 years?

Psalm 9

5 You have rebuked the nations and destroyed the wicked;

you have blotted out their name forever and ever.

6 Endless ruin has overtaken the enemy,

you have uprooted their cities;

even the memory of them has perished.

I feel fake when praising God for his destruction and wrath because it terrifies me thinking of my Father act this way.

This enraged, violent God.

The only analogy I can think of that doesn't make me cringe is the thought of a child being kidnapped and sold into slavery, sex trafficked, and his or her Father doing whatever it takes to rescue His child. I am glad that God is enraged by injustice and oppression and slavery, enraged enough to do something about it and save us.

I once heard this prayer something to the effect of, "Let us love you and other people, and hate nothing but sin itself." I really like it because I don't have a hatred for sin right now. Not yet, but I'm starting to see why we need it.

Psalm 8

verses 3 & 4:

"When I consider your heavens,

the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars,

which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,

the son of man that you care for him?"

It is absolutely preposterous that God would care for humans - mortals comprised of decaying flesh and brittle bones, unable to truly heal themselves or truly heal each other.

I'm glad that they author finds it crazy absurd, and though he isn't able to articulate an explanation as to why God would care for humans, he praises God for who He is and He's done: "O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" (verses 1 & 9)

Psalm 7

There is one line in particular I find striking: "Awake, my God; decree justice."

I see this as a plea. A plea as the author looks around at the devastation and brokenness and helplessness and vicious cycles that engulf him. Overwhelm him. He sees God as absent. Asleep. Oblivious. Ignorant. Indifferent.

And yet he knows his God and knows that He is a righteous God and a righteous judge and will "layeth the smacketh down" (credit: friend).

But "decree justice?"

That is so much more than busting out guns and killing the bad guys. Decreeing justice requires complete structural renovation and public renewal. There is order and purpose that comes from authority and wisdom and fairness. Justice is so much more than the absence of conflict. We so desperately need a righteous judge.

Psalm 6

This is probably one of my favorite Psalms because of its honesty.

This is probably one of the most unsettling Psalms because of its honesty.

"bones in agony"

"soul is in anguish"

"worn out from groaning"

"i flood my bed with weeping"

"drench my couch with tears"

"eyes grow weak with sorrow"

I'm not sure what had occurred to provoke the writing of this Psalm, but it sounds long and messy and hard. All he does is describes the state he is in. There's no explanation for how or why he's there. He doesn't even acknowledge that the LORD has done anything to rescue him or comfort him yet, but the LORD has done 3 things:

1. "heard my weeping"

2. "heard my cry for mercy"

3. "accepts my prayer"

The LORD seems incredibly passive and removed and powerless while the Psalmist implodes.

I am so grateful that David, the man after God's heart, the man from which the Savior of the world would descend from, reconciling God to us, us to each other, and us to the earth, felt this way too on at least one occasion.