...an acceptable time

As for me, Mystery, 

I lift my prayer to you.

At an acceptable time,

when your steadfast love 

overflows its bounds,

answer,

for I call out and the silence is deafening.

At an acceptable time, 

when your faithful help

flourishes like wheat,

rescue me,

for I am sinking and the waters are deep.

At an acceptable time,

when your pity

churns like the tide,

save ---

from flood, 

or deep, 

or Pit.

At an acceptable time,

answer, 

you whose goodness

is defined and demonstrated

by steadfast love;

turn to me,

show me the fullness of your mercy.

Let me look into your face, and

look into mine;

I am falling --- how long

shall I wait for you?

Draw near,

pay the price for me,

at an acceptable time.

---Psalm 69:13-18 (para. laca)

...as if to touch you

Hear, for I call;
in your faithfulness, listen,
in your righteousness, answer.
Reserve judgement against me,
for who among the living 
can stand under your perfection?
I stretch my hands as if to touch you,
my thirsting spirit longs 
for your quenching.
Will you answer?
I have grown weary with the waiting.
Do not turn away from me,
or I will surrender hope like one
damned to hell.
Let me hear the morning song
of your hesed, your steadfast love,
for all my trust is lifted to you.
Let me know your wisdom
and I will follow,
for all my soul is lifted to you.
Teach me what you have in store,
for you are mine.
In your goodness make my path,
and lead me on it
...for I am your servant.
---Psalm 143:1-2, 6-8, 10, 12b (para. laca)

...overwhelmed, battered, bathed

My soul has found its low place,
lost to yesterday and yesterday,
so I labor to recall you from 
beautiful days, from times of 
close ease. I do remember you.
The deep places in me echo 
with the thunder of earth's  deep places;
I'm overwhelmed, battered, bathed
where the waters fall away.
By day, your steadfast love;
by night, your song;
my spirit returns to you.
---Psalm 42: 4-8 (para. laca)

I have found myself at my lowest when I have forgotten the track record of the One who walks with me. It is easy for us, I think, to get beaten down, or worn down, and forget to remember. And, once we get rusty at calling to remembrance, we lose our backward vision. We panic, and grope, and grasp for a handhold on this path, all the while feeling we must have been abandoned.

Then the thunder of yearning from the deep spaces of our souls is matched by the thunder of our filling; the provision, the meeting, and the cacophony batters us, cleanses us, restores us. We know the hesed, the steadfast love, that both nourishes and challenges us, by day. And by night, when darkness tugs at the edges of our awareness and threatens our tenuous, newly-reclaimed security, we hear faint strains of a song, the middle-of-the-night song that calms and soothes us back to sleep, safe in the arms of the One who loves us.