I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands,
and I would not be comforted.
This past Sunday morning Justin read Psalm 77. It was an unconventional scripture reading.
Will the Lord reject forever?
Will he never show his favor again?
Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
Has his promise failed for all time?
He read slowly, his words heavy. The auditorium quieted.
Has God forgotten to be merciful?
Has he in anger withheld his compassion?
In the silence two little girls on the front row began dancing, dancing and then singing.
Their mother reached for them, shushing, but their song mixed with the Psalmist’s words. They chanted, “Blessed be the name of the Lord. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Blessed be the name of the Lord most high.”
And I smiled in spite of myself, smiled at the dappled light.