Save me from the mud

One of the Psalm readings for this week is Psalm 69:7-10, (11-15), 16-18. One reason why the Psalms are so effective is because they are so emotionally honest. The feelings of the Psalmist pierce through thousands of years to still feel totally true and relevant today.

I have become a stranger to my own brothers... How many people have felt something like that in the last year? Families have been strained; we've asked who these people even are, who voted so differently than we did. Not to mention non-political family rifts and struggles.

I wept while I fasted -- even for that I was insulted. Tamir Rice. Sandra Bland. Philando Castile. More and more. And when their families, friends, and supporters cry out that #BlackLivesMatter, some ignore them. Some try to correct them. They try to diminish the grief and discount the truth. Insult after injury.

Don't let the pit close its mouth over me! Summer's heavy, and not just with oppressive heat. We mark the anniversaries of the deaths of the Mother Emanuel shooting victims in Charleston; the Pulse nightclub victims; Philando Castile; Alton Sterling; the Dallas police officers; and more and more. We grieve with the loved ones of Nabra Hassanen, those who died in the Grenfell Fire, and more tragic events that have happened in the past month. We look ahead with trepidation at what will happen with healthcare in the United States (call your senators today, by the way). The pit feels like it's closing in, some days. The abyss might just swallow us up.

Answer me, LORD, for your faithful love is good! Turn to me in your great compassion! Even with all of this awfulness, we aren't alone. We aren't unmoored. God hears our prayers, God grieves with us, God comforts us, God helps us to keep going. What grace.

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