“Hear me speedily, O Lord: my spirit faileth: hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit.” – Psalm 143:7
“The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth. He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him: he also will hear their cry, and will save them.” – Psalm 145:18-19
“On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him: But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” – Job 23:9-10
This imperfect woman has been tested and retested lately. And although the house is still standing and the kids are still alive, I feel like my imperfections are oozing out all over the place. Storms (even late winter snow storms) have a way of bringing your inner storms to the surface. Throw in a week when your husband is away, a minor car accident, and a few small household disasters, and you’ve got an entire storm system. Despite my best attempts at holding it all together, recent days have exposed nerve endings I didn’t even know I had.
In Psalm 143, I think David could relate. He talks about an overwhelmed spirit and a desolate heart (Verse 4), and he begs God to hear him without judging him – all the hallmarks of a man whose inner storm system has just bubbled to the surface.
Some Bible scholars believe this Psalm was written while David was on the run from King Saul (I Samuel 23). Others say he wrote it while running from his own treacherous son, Absalom (II Samuel 16). Either way, David knew desperation. And although he was being pounded by a relentless external storm, his prayer seems to focus more on the storms that raged in his own heart. In 3 of the verses (Verses 3, 9 and 12) David asks the Lord to save him from his enemies. We all have those moments, don’t we? This fallen world is against us every day – in the form of sickness, danger, loss, and need. The world wars against our families, our homes, and our churches. There are storms out there, and often, they threaten a bigger fallout than record snowfalls.
But although he is acutely aware of the external threats, in twice as many verses (Verses 4, 6, 7, 8, 10 and 11) David asks God to save him from himself. Boy, can I relate to that. Sometimes it’s not so much what the storms do to me as it is what they bring out of me. And maybe that’s got something to do with God’s purpose in the problem. My natural response to storms betrays just how much hold my sin nature still has on me.
David openly outlines his heart condition, but he also shares the prescription that made him a man after God’s own heart (I Samuel 13:14, Acts 13:22). Starting in Verse 5, David implements a very deliberate, intentional, and prepared response to this storm. He remembers the works of God. He thinks about Who God is and what He has done. He stretches His hands to God, and asks God for a speedy deliverance (Verses 6-7, Psalm 63:1, 8, Isaiah 26:9) – and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Don’t be afraid to tell God that you’ve reached the end of your rope, because that’s where your much-needed dependency on Him begins (John 15:4-5, II Corinthians 12:9).
David then asks God to cause Him to hear, to cause Him to know, and to teach Him (Verses 8-10). That takes the senselessness out of a storm. If it only ravages the outside, then a storm is sadly senseless, but if it changes us for the better on the inside, then maybe by God’s grace, we really can gain from the pain (Psalm 119:71, 124, James 1:3, I Peter 1:7).
I don’t like this process any more than you do, but I’ve come to appreciate its necessity. After all, if we really want to do the kind of deep cleaning in our hearts that we say we do, nothing washes all the garbage up onto the beach like a good storm (Psalm 51:7-10, 139:23-24). And I’m sorry to say that, on more than one occasion, God has gently whispered to my heart about something that needed to change, but it wasn’t until I gasped at my own knee-jerk response to some life storm that I took Him seriously.
Honestly, I don’t know what your storm is today. Chances are, it would make my little mini storms seem inconsequential. But my God is not inconsequential. He conjures storms, and He quiets them. He hears prayers, and He answers them. And He uses storms to shape a stony heart and a rock-hard head like mine, and I praise Him for it.
YOUR PRESCRIPTION
Take a shower in the storm. Let God use your storm to reveal any part of your heart that needs to be washed clean. He will make a way, but if you let Him, He will also make a change in you.
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