He heard my cry...

Psalm 40: 1-2 The Voice

1 I waited a long time for the Eternal;
    He finally knelt down to hear me.
    He listened to my weak and whispered cry.
2 He reached down and drew me
    from the deep, dark hole where I was stranded, mired in the muck and clay.
    With a gentle hand, He pulled me out
To set me down safely on a warm rock;
    He held me until I was steady enough to continue the journey again.

I have cried a lot in the past few years. I have cried as I grieved the loss of loved ones, hopes and dreams. I have cried as I watched those around me encounter burdens that felt very unfair and made my heart break. I have cried as I endured health issues. I have cried for my babies as I while watching them face difficulties in marriage, fertility and gender. I have cried for my grand-babies as I watch them face some medical hurdles that others avoid. I have cried as I felt my hands tied while life moved on around me.  What I have failed to do, more often than not, is to cry out to God.

My life has been deeply divided the past few years. That is a loaded statement I know, one that I will unpack and share with you as we move forward in our pondering but for now lets just say I was tired of the repeated blows and I did what any fragile being would do, I retreated into myself. It seems a person can only ask for so much prayer and have so many crazy stories and tragedies before they feel as though it is just too much. I stopped sharing. My Christian friends would call it walking through the desert but I must admit I simply made a choice, a choice to be silent. And yet, although I chose to remain silent, God still heard me cry.

While looking at my devotional this morning I read this:

The deeper the mud and mire in which we find ourselves, the more brilliant the rescue when we are lifted out. Great darkness, it seems, is best suited for seeing great light.
Burkholder, Kyle. Psalm 40: A 30-day Devotional on Despair, Deliverance, and the Joy of Singing a New Song (pp. 12-13)

 I am ready to see some great light, some days I sense it is right around the corner and others I still feel the isolation and the inkling of despair. As I prepare to leave the state of melancholy behind I have decided that a class on the Psalms would be a good idea, after all David seemed to perfect the ability to lament. I look forward to gently be placed on a warm rock until I am steady enough to continue the journey again.