Sunday, February 19, 2012

darkness is as light to You

Psalm 139:4-6 - "Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.  You hem me in--behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain."

I walked into church this morning just as the service was beginning.  I almost always am on the worship team, so this was a nice change of pace for me.  Although I do not feel as if my ability to worship God is entirely hindered by the responsibilities of worship-leading, there are times when I miss being able to choose when I sing and when I don't, when I simply soak it in and when I don't, when I pray and read Scripture while the music plays and when I simply sing with hands raised.  I have missed that.

I came to church this morning with a lot of emotional baggage (although, when don't I?).  You see, I'm a people-pleaser.  What this means is that many people tend to think I'm a really great person (well, okay, maybe they don't...), because I am constantly in overdrive obsessing over how every little thing that I do will affect the people around me.  I see this as both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness.  It means that when you say something to me, I am going to immediately try to figure out what you want to hear, and then I will most likely say that.  I always try to be honest, but many times I compromise my reality or my values to find a middle ground.  I will always validate everything you are saying, and though I may insert my opinion, it will always be with the caveat that I have no idea what I'm talking about, so you shouldn't listen to me.  My people-pleasing nature also means that I am almost always panicking about something or other.  "I didn't handle that situation correctly, and now Sally probably doesn't think I appreciate her."

I over-think everything.  I love too strongly, too quickly.  I am too quick to trust, too quick to believe.  And this unwavering loyalty is accompanied by constant fear.  Fear for myself, but most of all, fear that this fear will hurt those around me.  I rarely worry about myself.  Well, that's not even true.  I do worry about myself, but not directly.  I worry that I will hurt people, which will in turn have an impact on their opinion of me.

I worry about the future.  I constantly run scenarios of what my next step should be.  Today is rarely enough for me.  Always tomorrow presses in.  I also worry incessantly about the past.  I mourn my selfishness, my inability to love like I should have, and I mourn my inability to make sense of it all.  I worry about the cyclical nature of life.  I worry, worry, worry.

Suffice it to say, I walked into church this morning with more than a couple burdens.  As the worship songs were playing, I flipped my Bible open to the Psalms.  The way my Bible is, it flips most often to the page with Psalm 130.  And so I started reading at Psalm 130.  "Out of the depths I cry to you, oh Lord..."  This was the lyrics to one of the first songs I wrote.  Psalm 131:2 - "But I have stilled and quieted my soul..."  What does it even mean to still and quiet my soul?  Do I ever really attain that?  Oh, God, that You would still my soul so that I could discern your will for me.  That I would be able to set aside the worries of yesterday, today, and tomorrow and be still before you.  Psalm 133 - "How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity."  This verse is so powerful for me, being applicable to so many situations in my life.  I kept reading, soaking in the affirmations of the goodness of God above all else.

And then I got to Psalm 139.  "O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD.  You hem me in--behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me..."

And I was so struck by God's love for me.  He knows me.  He is familiar with all my ways, all my flaws, all my foibles.  He knows everything I have said and will say.  He understands why I say it, what drives me to that place, and all the intricate meaning behind the comparative simplicity of the words themselves.  He hems me in, behind and before.  Not only does he know my future and prepare me for that, he bandages my wounds.  He takes my mistakes and my failures and turns them into His glory.

I'm blown away.  Both by God's faithfulness in the past, something I can clearly see, and God's faithfulness in the future, something that is somewhat more hard to accept.  Because here's the thing: let's say that huge mistakes are in my future.  I can accept that God will teach me something from it.  I can accept the pain that will accompany those mistakes, because I know I deserve it.  But I mourn for those caught in the crossfire.  But this morning I was so convicted by my need to set aside my people-pleaser ways and trust that God is not only big enough for me, He's also big enough for those I love and yet hurt.  He hems us in, behind and before.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Psalm 139:11 - "If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,' even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you."

There is incredible peace in those words.  My darkness is completely understood by God, and it is light to Him.  Somehow, it is light.

No comments:

Post a Comment