The Pharaoh And The Deep Red Sea

          As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long. Where is your God?” These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng.

          Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, My Savior and my God.

          My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep
    in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.

          I say to God my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?” My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?”

          Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42)

          Yesterday, a friend shared a meme telling us that our emotions are valid. What I’ve been posting over the past few days may be taken by some to be saying, “Don’t Feel!” That’s not what I’m trying to tell you at all. Our feelings communicate important information to us. The problem is, our response to those feelings tends to be to focus on, wallow in, or even worship the feelings rather than to turn to God. They aren’t necessarily evil in and of themselves, but they are used either to separate us from God or to draw us to Him. Emotions make good messengers, but bad masters. Unfortunately, being fallen humans, we are more likely to be separated. We have to work at their drawing us closer, as David did in today’s passage.

          Last night was a tough time for me. I went to bed weeping, overwhelmed with uncertainty, sorrowing over my circumstances, and crying out to God in far less poetic terms than David did. There are so many negatives right now. Everything I need to do and want to do not only costs money but seems to require that I leave home to get stuff. I want to be helpful in my community in this time of difficulty, but since I got home from Florida a week ago, I’m supposed to be staying away from people for at least another week, and that takes me back to the issue of everything I want and need to do requires that I leave home. I wanted to get a job this summer – not likely. My book is getting ready to hit the market, and I should be going to libraries and bookstores in Cleveland, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, and Erie (at least!) to market it, except there are no libraries or bookstores in those places right now. Somehow, libraries aren’t seen as essential, but they don’t know how essential they are to me. Roadblock after roadblock. I feel like the Israelites caught between the Pharaoh and the deep Red Sea (OK, I know it’s not really that deep, but I’m trying to parallel “Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.” It’s a writer thing.)

          Especially since I’m writing this series about spiritual warfare, I knew I had to take it all to God. This morning is better. Sleep does that sometimes. While walking Grace, I usually pick up  OPT (Other people’s trash.) I wash my hands when I get home, but this morning, I struggled with that being all I can do right now. Then, I saw a car coming toward me and decided it was time to step out of my comfort zone. I slapped something resembling a smile on my face and waved. I kept waving as other cars went by. I don’t know if they noticed me. I couldn’t see if they waved or smiled back, but that doesn’t matter. I gave them a second of human contact.

          When I got home, I decided to work on the driveway. Over the winter spruce needles and cones, leaves, and other debris gets caught in weeds that grow in the cracks in the concrete and along the fence. I got it raked into a pile and filled one garbage can with it – then thought to take pictures. (Why can I never remember to take before pictures?) Once I started taking pictures, it came to mind that it would be interesting to do a plague photo diary of a “Nobody.” And, it’d be nice to do a garden album, and I need to set up my Birds & Beasts album for the year. So I took lots of photos, and I’ll be posting them shortly.

          This morning, I know that God is working on something in my life through this summer (and beyond.) I know that I’m these small things I’m doing mean next to nothing, and everything. I know that I can either wallow in grief about freedom lost and accomplishment denied, or I can do what I can and watch God accomplish what I can’t. I can either surrender to sadness, or accept it, deal with it gently, and move on.