Take This Cup: March 28th


Psalm 31

Right before the new year, I met with a few friends at the Reflecting Pool in D.C. It was freezing, the wind was kicking up, and a few tourists still walked to see the Lincoln Memorial.  In our overstuffed layers, wool hats, and masks, one of my friends tearfully shared he had too few years left at too young of an age.  It felt like the ground dissipated.  I felt my soul and body absolutely shred with sadness (v. 9).  

When I read this psalm again, the words in the first five verses really put something on paper I’ve been feeling recently.  Sorrow. Grief. Anguish.  And look, I think we all experience this in gradations.  Sometimes life events feel hard and sometimes wonderful and sometimes reality-shattering.  But what the heck do we do when we feel like broken pottery (v. 12) rather than the fearfully, wonderfully made image-bearers of God living out our promised life and having it to the full?

Truthfully, I’m not sure I know.  But I do know God’s answer to Christ in Gethsemane is not to take the cup from his hand, but to send an angel to help him endure.  So that tells me endurance through suffering puts us in communion with Christ, where we are made to be, and where we will find full life. Right now I’m praying verses 14-16.  I trust in the Lord.  My times are in his hands.  Just let your face shine on me.