Monday, July 17, 2017
I
cry out to the Lord; I plead for the Lord’s mercy. I pour out my complaints before him and tell
him all my troubles. When I am
overwhelmed, you alone know the way I should turn. Wherever I go, my enemies have set traps for
me. I look for someone to come and help
me, but no one gives me a passing thought!
No one will help me; no one cares a bit what happens to me. Then I pray to you, O Lord. I say, “You are my place of refuge. You are all I really want in life. Hear my cry, for I am very low. Rescue me from my persecutors, for they are
too strong for me. Bring me out of
prison so I can thank you. The godly
will crowd around me, for you are good to me.”
Psalm 142:1-7(NLT)
Of the
seven U.S. presidents who hail from New York, the last two have a reputation of
being flamboyant and able to rub the cat in the wrong direction. There is a story about the one who occupied
the Oval Office from 1933-45, which may, or may not, be true:
Roosevelt decided that the guests were never really listening
to what he was saying. One day at a reception he decided to try a
little experiment. As each guest arrived
and shook the president’s hand he smiled politely and said pleasantly, “I
murdered my grandmother this morning.”
As Roosevelt had anticipated, the guests responded with such
comments as, “Marvelous!” “Keep up
the good work!” “We are proud
of you!” “God bless you, sir!”
It was not until the end of the line, while greeting the ambassador from
Bolivia, that his guest actually listened to what Roosevelt was saying. The ambassador leaned over and whispered, “I’m
sure she had it coming.”[ii]
Now, that’s
a funny story, and, whether true or not, highlights part of the problem the
Psalmist wailed about – that there wasn’t a single person who really cared what
happened to him; nobody even gave his circumstances a passing thought. Sometimes most of us at least have thoughts
like that. Some of us live there.
You may
have been there – are there; I have been as well.
Our prayers
at times like that turn to the kind of lament that drowns out the reasonableness
of life. We cry out to God for any kind
of relief. We are like Buck Owens character
in the song, Gloom, Despair, and Agony
on Me[iii]:
Gloom,
despair, and agony on me
Deep, dark
depression, excessive misery
If it
weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all
Gloom, despair, and agony on me
Self-pity
aside, the reasons why people get in this mode of frantically crying from the
pit of despair is that we really
are in deep despair.
Depression is no small thing. And,
if the sale of anti-depressant drugs is any indication, our culture is really
good at creating it.
For You Today
Be
aware today that of the first 10 people you will meet today, somewhere around eight
or nine of them will have experienced, or ARE experiencing depression! Help them know someone cares; help them pray
with the other Psalm:
Restore to me the joy
of your salvation…Psalm 51:12a(NLT)
NOTES
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