Susan LaffertyThe psalmist cries out to the Lord. And God hears his cry, inclining His ear toward a desperate appeal. For mercy.
In the telling of his story, the psalmist goes back and forth.
Between relief and alarm. Death and rescue.
The way we often do.
In the context of crisis.
In days of distress and disgrace, a written message arrives. From the enemy.
Dire threats. Mocking words. Blasphemy.
And Hezekiah goes to the temple. Spreading out the letter of his adversary before the Lord.
This king’s response informs my praying. For the persecuted. Those suffering greatly today. In the face of opposition to the gospel.
Motionless. I sit. In sunlight. Stilled by loss and grief spilling across screens and down streets. Through personal stories of friends and strangers. Hard and sad.
Bitter wounds. Raw pain rooted deep. Laid bare.
Motionless. I wait. Stilled by the scale of it. What are we to do? Hands rest, palms up.
Eyes lifted to open sky between tall trees.
Wordless cry to the One I trust.
