Anti-psalm 27

When life has felt chaotic or overwhelming, I’ve found stability for my heart in Psalm 27. But what if the words written there were not my foundation - where would that leave me? Instead of supported, I’d be abandoned; instead of embraced, I’d be alone. Everything opposite of the Psalmist’s experience would be my reality:

The LORD is not my light or my salvation;

I have everyone to fear.

The LORD is not the stronghold of my life;

I have every reason to be afraid.

When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes,

It is I who stumble and fall.

When an army encamp against me, my heart fears;

When war rises up against me, I have no confidence.

I have not asked anything of the LORD, 

or tried to get close to Him for even one day of my life,

Because I don’t see beauty in Him or a reason to focus on Him.

He doesn’t shelter me in the day of trouble;

He doesn’t let me into his tent, but rather

He leaves me vulnerable.

My enemies exalt over me, and I have no reason for joy;

I have no song to sing.

He doesn’t hear a word from me, because I’m not crying out to Him.

He hasn’t asked me to seek Him, so I don’t.

He hides his face from me and turns me away in anger.

He hasn’t helped. He’s cast me off and forsaken me.

When my family rejects me, so does God.

I have nothing to learn from Him,

Alone on my crooked path, surrounded by enemies,

Given over to the will of liars and violent people.

I don’t believe in the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

Don’t wait for Him; 

Be weak, and let your heart wilt.

Don’t wait for the LORD.

I hope you’ll check out Psalm 27 and let the light be even more precious to you because of its contrast to the darkness.

Conspiracy Theories

How many of them have surfaced on the heels of this weekend?

Conspiracy theories are tempting to speculate about and hide behind when the unexpected strikes. We run to them in desperation for their secret knowledge and inside information like bunkers for our fears, shelters for our vulnerabilities, and safe-houses for our futures. It’s an attempt to make brokenness manageable and explainable.

We think that constructing some sort of explanation for what’s “really” going on, prevents our falling prey to what we dread, and we pride ourselves on making discoveries that keep us from being gullible and victimized like everyone else. 

Certainly, there’s a place for detectives and investigators doing admirable work in the world to get to the bottom of crimes, but even they have limitations and fallacies. So where do we turn for refuge when even the professionals might not have the whole picture? I love God’s instruction to Isaiah thousands of years ago, because it sounds like He could have said it yesterday:

“For the LORD spoke thus to me with his strong hand upon me, and warned me not to walk in the way of this people, saying, “Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. But the LORD of hosts, Him you shall honor as holy. Let Him be your fear, and let Him be your dread. And He will become a sanctuary…” 

Isaiah 8:12-14a. 

Here are my takeaways:

1. Finding conspiracy in everything is not the way for God’s people to live.

2. Living according to a conspiracy theory is honoring it as holy. 

3. The LORD is the safe source for my fear and dread.

4. The LORD of hosts is the self-existent, covenant-keeping Commander of heaven’s armies, more powerful and true than breaking news. 

Stand firm,

Cherith

What’s happening?

“...but the city of Susa was thrown into confusion.” Esther 3:15

Considering the latest reports of global antisemitic outrage, it’s not difficult to imagine the chaos that erupted back in Esther’s day. I wonder if the Persian edict of pending Jewish annihilation prompted hateful rioting ahead of time? Was anything from racism to violence against the Jews justifiable in the meantime since King Ahasuerus had already set a date that sealed their fates? Could neighbors who were once tolerant be trusted? Was it best to fight or flee? 

If faithful Jews were among those living in Susa, I picture them turning to the book of Psalms to guide their thoughts, emotions, and faith through the looming disaster. Perhaps they landed in Psalm 77. Although you may not find yourself oppressed and threatened by terror as they were - and as the Jews are today - it doesn’t take physical war to throw us into confusion.  Maybe you can relate to Asaph’s state of mind in Psalm 77:

(v.1-6) He’s crying, seeking, distressed, prayerful, inconsolable, groaning, faint-hearted, speechless, sleepless, troubled, rejected, questioning, and longing.

His gut-wrenching anxieties about God are relatable when our world, internationally or personally, turns upside-down. If we draw conclusions based on confusing circumstances, those conclusions will also be upside-down:

(v.7) Is the Lord’s rejection eternal? He’s defined by rejection; it’s what he’s done all along. 

Is His grace historical? He used to be gracious, but those days are over.

(v.8) Is His love invisible? Since I can’t see His love right now, it can’t be real.

Is His Word unreliable? What he promises isn’t strong enough to be guaranteed.

(v.9) Is his care forgetful? He must have lost track of humanity, or at least of me.

Is his intention spiteful? He’s mad at me, and, as a punishment, He withholds help.

As if Asaph has vomited up his perspective and emptied his heart of poison, the Psalm takes a turn at its mid-point:

(v.10-20) Asaph decides to remember, ponder, and meditate on God’s past activity, miraculous intervention, mighty deeds, holy ways, greatness, rescue, control over natural forces, invisible presence, and shepherding guidance. 

When we ask, “What’s happening?!”, we look back so that we can keep looking forward. 

“God led His people like a flock, by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” Psalm 77:20

Try it on Backwards

Psalm 20

The thing about a favorite T-shirt is that it hangs so familiarly that I forget I’m even wearing it. I don’t spend any part of my day actually thinking about what I have on when I pull it from my drawer. It just feels right.

But then there’s that feeling when the neckline sits up higher than usual and the shoulders pull awkwardly, that I realize I’ve put it on backwards. Suddenly, I become aware of its shape and seams that were intentionally, yet subtly, designed, and I love it even more because of those details.  Only by trying it on backwards, do I recognize why it’s so perfect front-wards.

I’ve noticed that I can treat Scripture like a favorite shirt, well-worn and comfortable, used without much attention to why it resonates.  But what if I tried Scripture on backwards? How could it accentuate truth if it were reversed into falsehood? 

Recently a friend introduced me to the idea of antipsalms, where the message of hope and truth in a Psalm is twisted into despair and lies by turning the verses to mean the opposite. 

Try on my Antipsalm 20 for Psalm 20:

There is no one to answer you in the day of trouble.

There is no one to call on for protection.

Help isn’t coming, and nor is any support.

Everything you’ve done is forgotten.

All your hopes and dreams will be dashed.

There is only crying, defeat, and failure ahead.

No one can save you; heaven is silent and too weak to rescue.

It’s better to have military strength than to rely on a god, 

because that’s where the real power is to rise above the enemy. 

The king saves himself. No one bothers with your problems.

Have you been walking around in this backwards shirt, believing it’s your reality? Quick! Twist it around, and check out Psalm 20 to get it right and to love it even more.

Prayers for my kids

When our kids began to reach school-age, we were living abroad. It was a country famous for polar opposites: a people of generosity and strong relationships, constantly threatened by robberies, muggings and carjackings.  They welcomed us with open arms, yet every house stood locked behind walls and bars. 

The threat was real, and when my husband was eventually car-jacked, it was merely our entrance into their reality. But the danger deepened when it came to sending our oldest to school.  He carries an epi-pen for anaphylactic food allergies, and in this foreign school, his teachers had never seen an epi-pen before. 

My anxiety in this context surfaced rapidly, and “unsafe” was my mantra.  Nothing was safe - not the streets, our neighborhood, the people, their school, the food.  A long commentary on this season in my life could be written, but what I hope can be helpful for this moment are the prayers I learned to pray then and still pray now regarding our kids.  

These are cries that first came from a heart overwhelmed with panic, just trying to make it through the hours; they’re not prayers from a heart that had it all figured out. Every day back then, as I sent my oldest off to school, it was an act of faith, and every day he came home, it was a gift. 

And we’re reminded, dear parent, family member, and care-giver, that it still is. If you find yourself wrapped up in inescapable anxiety over your kids, may one of these simple prayers resonate with you.

A prayer for when I’m with my children: 

Help me love them fully in the moment, because it’s really all I have.

A prayer for when I’m not with my children:

Help me release control, because I have actually never had it.

A prayer for when I sense my limitations:

Help me remember that I am just mom; only You are God. Your love, understanding, and control exceed mine.

A prayer for perspective:

Stir up a longing in me for that place where tragedy never strikes.  Even so, come, Lord Jesus.