So they call this the sophomore slump. And now the sophomore home stretch. The last three weeks. I suppose it's a comfort to know that it's supposed to be hard...or at least that most people find it hard. I am following social norms! Hip hip hooray. Or not so much.
Even so, in the midst of all of the stressing out, God has been good in tangible, beautiful ways. A peaceful heart, legs that would do what I told them to do even while I was being watched by some one hundred plus people, friendship from people I wasn't expecting, reminders of friendships that I have already, beautiful sunny days to revel in. It would be so easy to just say "thank you God!" and run around enjoying the splendor and forget about these struggles on my shoulders. But I can't. So many people see God as a jack-in-the-box miracle man. If you crank the prayer handle long enough, he'll pop out, scare you a little, but eventually make you smile. However, I have been increasingly reminded lately that it is in trials that His love proves itself as the most beautiful of things.
Psalm 119. A penned note in the margin of my Bible says "praise and love in the midst of suffering." The anonymous psalmist doesn't just talk about physical suffering either but how he is pitted with loneliness as a "sojourner" and how his "soul clings to the dust." You can't get lower than that. And yet, all through the psalm, promises of God's goodness are sprinkled in between the hardships. "Great is [His] mercy," despite "my persecutors and my adversaries" whether they be real or imagined, physical or spiritual.
What I find most healing is that verse 176, the very last of them all, ends in weakness:
Even so, in the midst of all of the stressing out, God has been good in tangible, beautiful ways. A peaceful heart, legs that would do what I told them to do even while I was being watched by some one hundred plus people, friendship from people I wasn't expecting, reminders of friendships that I have already, beautiful sunny days to revel in. It would be so easy to just say "thank you God!" and run around enjoying the splendor and forget about these struggles on my shoulders. But I can't. So many people see God as a jack-in-the-box miracle man. If you crank the prayer handle long enough, he'll pop out, scare you a little, but eventually make you smile. However, I have been increasingly reminded lately that it is in trials that His love proves itself as the most beautiful of things.
Psalm 119. A penned note in the margin of my Bible says "praise and love in the midst of suffering." The anonymous psalmist doesn't just talk about physical suffering either but how he is pitted with loneliness as a "sojourner" and how his "soul clings to the dust." You can't get lower than that. And yet, all through the psalm, promises of God's goodness are sprinkled in between the hardships. "Great is [His] mercy," despite "my persecutors and my adversaries" whether they be real or imagined, physical or spiritual.
What I find most healing is that verse 176, the very last of them all, ends in weakness:
I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,We can do nothing. We're just lost sheep. Have you ever met a sheep? The comparison is not flattering. Sheep are quite stupid and are very good at finding ways to die whether it be from disease or simply wandering off. So we're sheep. The only one who is able to take action is the LORD. "Seek your servant." We sheep can do nothing for ourselves, but we are going to keep running away. These trials are going to continue to surround us. The promises of God are going to continue to lift us up. We are going to continue to fall. And that is alright.
for I do not forget your commandments.
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