Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”. 

Psalm 63 says,
    O God, you are my God,
        earnestly I seek you
    my throat thirsts for you
        my body longs for you
    in a dry and weary land
        where there is no water (v. 1).

One summer day, my brother and I hiked two-and-a-half miles on a dusty gravel road to the top of a hill. Lunch with a view. Bologna-lettuce-and-mayonnaise sandwiches with a drink of milk, some of which I saved for the thirsty trip home. Sitting on the hill, we enjoyed a fourteen mile view of patchwork prairie farmland: squares of green wheat growing, fields of brilliant yellow canola,and fields of black soil lying fallow in the sun. 

On the hot road home, my brother said, “Hey, did you save some milk?” I took out my bottle, swished the milk around, smelled it and said, “It’s gone sour.” And I poured it out on the ground. My brother said, “Hey, I’m thirsty. I wanted that!” 

I tell this story not to comment on my brotherly kindness, but to offer a perspective on thirst. The poet in Psalm 63 experienced his relationship to God as extreme thirst and physical longing. 

Let’s pray. 

Our father, we understand the poet’s dry and weary land where there is no water. Like a hot gravel road under the prairie sun without even sour milk to drink. We long for your presence, but we feel the dryness of your absence. We look for you, but cannot find you. Are you present to us in the sun that burns our face? In the dust that chokes our throat? In the vast blue sky without shade or rain? 

Like the poet, we have seen your power and glory in the sanctuary. When you shone your light on us at a life-changing conference. When we felt your presence in a church that nurtured our spiritual growth.  When someone’s kindness helped us feel your deep deep love. But today you are absent. We are stuck in the desert where the only water is a mirage and the only comfort a memory of how things used to be.

With the poet we treasure our memories. When your presence filled our hearts. When your spirit quenched our thirst. When your love washed away our sorrows and sins. 

With the poet we say, “Because your love is better than life, my lips will praise you . . . I will lift up my hands in your name” (v. 3-4). This is our gravel-road statement of faith. In our thirst, we speak your praise with parched lips; we shelter under your unseen wings, we think of you in our sleepless hours at night (vv. 4, 6, 7). Our life is desert until your river flows through it. Our spirit is empty until you fill it. Our days are wasted until we voice your praise. 

With the poet we sing as we travel the dusty road of life. We sing with lifted hands, we sing in the shadow of your wings, we sing of love that watches over us at night and upholds us in the day. We sing of living water that quenches our thirst.

O God, receive our song. Show us the way on our thirsty journey. Lead us to rivers of life. 

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”. 

In Psalm 62, the poet finds a quiet place of rest from his busy life and noisy enemies. He says,
    Only in God my soul finds rest;
        my salvation comes from him.
    Only he is my . . . fortress;
      I will not be shaken (vv 1-2). 

This psalm is unique because the poet doesn’t make any requests to God. Though he complains about enemies, he doesn’t ask God to save or rescue or deliver him. Instead, he finds in God a quiet shelter in his stormy life, a strong refuge in his weakness.

Let’s pray. 

Our father, this psalm tells us to trust in you at all times, to pour out our hearts to you, for you are our refuge (v. 8).

Thank you for welcoming the outpouring of our hearts, with their muddled thoughts and feelings. We present to you our thanks for food and shelter, our relief that spring has come at last, our fear of the coronavirus pandemic, our concern for the economy, and our faith that you are good. Take our hearts, Lord, protect and heal them.

With the poet we form a prayer of rest around three times our psalm uses the word “only”.

About his enemies, the poet says,
    How long will your assail [me]
       will you batter [me],
        like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
    Your only plan is to bring me down. . .
    With your mouth you bless,
        but in your heart you curse (vv.3-5, paraphrased).

O God, our enemies are single-minded–their only plan is to bring us down. The enemy in our minds discourages and depresses us. The enemy in our hearts creates numbness and apathy. The enemy in our relationships destroys trust and goodwill. The enemy in our spirits tells us faith is an illusion. O God, how often, like the poet, we are a leaning wall, a tottering fence. Fragile and vulnerable, we live on the edge of failure and ruin. But we choose with the poet to rest in your shelter. 

In a second use of the word “only”, the poet says,
    Those of low estate are only a breath,
          those of high estate only a delusion;
          in the balances they go up;
    together they are lighter than breath (v. 9). 

O God, the heavyweights of our world are not as weighty as they imagine–they are only a breath of air. When they stand on the scales, the needle doesn’t move. When they walk through the sand, they leave no footprints. When they stand before you, O God, their haughty speech and mighty words are reduced to silence. They cannot provide a reliable fortress or a  trustworthy salvation.

The poet also uses the word “only” to talk about you, God, for you alone are his focus. Twice he says,:
    Only in God does my soul find rest,
    Only he is my rock and my salvation (vv. 1-2, 5-6). 

Thank you that our souls find rest in you. Thank you for each night of sleep. Thank you for each day of peace. Thank you for the downtime that coronavirus imposes on our hyperactive society. As we take a break from shopping, eating out, commuting, and attending church, we invite you to bring us to rest. May this coronavirus sabbatical become a holy time of rest in your name. Bring us through the epidemic with a new desire to seek you in our lives and to follow you in our world. Care for the unemployed, the displaced, the weary, and the sick in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”. 

Psalm 61 is a poignant statement of faith. Listen to the poet’s prayer:
  From the ends of the earth I call to you,
      when my heart is overwhelmed;
  lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
  For you have been my refuge,
    a strong tower against the foe (vv. 2-3). 

Do you experience that same feeling: “From the ends of the earth I call to you when my heart is overwhelmed.” I don’t often get to the geographical ends of the earth, but like the poet I bump into my emotional limits and get overwhelmed.

What brings you to the “ends of the earth” where you feel overwhelmed and far from God? Maybe anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder. Or cancer? Perhaps it’s money: you don’t know where the next paycheck is coming from, unable to accumulate savings, buried under a pile of debt. Perhaps it’s the relational crises of your life–marriage not so good, kids are wayward, neighbours are jerks. Maybe it’s family who judge and avoid you. Or maybe it’s God: you are not sure if he exists, and if he does, why doesn’t he listen to you and care about you? 

Whatever makes you alone and isolated–bring it to this psalm. Are you at the end of your wits? At the ends of the earth? Overwhelmed? Then say with the poet, “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”  Yes, that’s what we need when earthquakes shake us, when troubles frighten, when waves of stress threaten to drown us. We need a rock to stand on, a firm place to plant our feet, some solid ground where we can look around, take our bearings, and find relief. 

The poet says, “That firm place is you, O God. You have been my refuge, a strong tower against my foes.” 

Let’s pray. 

Our father, we are refugees, driven from the homes we tried to build. We imagined happy and fulfilling lives but we have ended up with disturbed states of mind and body, in a world without answers.

We are refugees from church, driven into the wilderness by doctrines we can’t accept and rules that judge us. 

We are refugees from families that misunderstand and avoid us. 

O Jesus, we are all refugees in many ways. 

Lead us, we pray, to the rock that is higher than us. Be a refuge for the refugees, bring us to your tent, shelter us under your wings of protection and comfort.

We pray for the lonely elderly whose care facilities are locked down. In their loneliness and fear, be their refuge. 

We pray for health care workers in masks and hazmat suits, caring for the sick, watching people die. Be their strong tower. 

We pray for the unemployed, watching television at home as bills pile up. Make their home a tent where they dwell with you. 

We pray for refugees, far from home and family, scarred by violence and abuse. Protect them in the shelter of your wings. 

We pray for ourselves when we are overwhelmed. Lead us to the rock that is higher than us.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.