I am traveling these two weeks. Leaving my blessed Harvester Island for necessary blessings: to teach at Scriptoria, a writing conference in Michigan. And then to see my family in New England, whom I haven’t seen for many years.

May and June have been tumultuous: a death in our immediate family. My dizzy, busy heart. A book due. A funeral. The start of a fishing season minus a brother. A building project.

But I’m trying to stay awake. Trying to seize the small beautiful moments wherever I am, whoever I am with.

Paying attention. Listening for the outbreak of beauty and love around us.   Here, the sound of the engine and the kittiwakes as I skiffed into Larsen Bay this morning:

 But that’s not going to get us through the next few months. We need the Psalms. This is where I go when I’m in trouble (and I’m in trouble a lot.) So, apparently, were the people in David’s day.

David is writing here (Psalm 57). He’s on the run from Saul, who’s trying to kill him. Exhausted, desert-dry, weary-eyed, he did the only thing he knew would help. He wailed out:

Have pity on me, O God!!  Have pity on me,
    because my soul takes refuge in you.
        I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
            till the storms of destruction pass by.

Why does David bother to spend his voice and his strength calling out to a God he cannot see or hear? A king is trying to murder him!

(My soul is in the midst of lions;
    I lie down amid fiery beasts . ..

They set a net for my steps;
    my soul was bowed down.)

This is why he stops to take up his pen in the heat of his fix:

I cry out to God Most High,
    to God who fulfills his purpose for me.
 He WILL send from heaven and save me;
    he WILL put to shame him who tramples on me. 
God WILL send out his steadfast love and his faithfulness!

And He does. By the end, he writes:

My heart is steadfast, O God,
    my heart is steadfast!
I will sing and make melody!
    Awake, my glory!

HOW does David get from howling as literal “prey” to then exultant praise?

Nothing has changed for David, but everything has changed. In utter honesty and need, David cries out. His pen and his voice carry him from one reality to another: from his reality to the reality of who God is and what He will do. And He does it.

God comes near. Near enough to change his heart, to open his ears, to widen his eyes, to quiet his heart. Near enough to then cry out:

I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples;
    I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is great to the heavens,
    your faithfulness to the clouds.

Here’s what I want to say to this week, this month. Don't wait for relief to mysteriously appear. Go to the Psalms.

Go to Psalm 57 or Psalm 13 or Psalm 54. Write it out. Speak aloud your pain and your reality——and write and speak your way to a truer reality: what God WILL do in you. Even as you write. What’s better than this? Do it with a friend. The Psalms are a portal to Heaven,  given for us, for the Church, for all ages. 

Through whatever comes next this Fall and beyond, let me join my voice with yours, from lament to praise:

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over ALL the earth !!!!

(Are you overwhelmed too? Would you do this, write out a Psalm by hand, and then tell us how God met you there in those words?

P.S. We’re having trouble with the comment section this week. If it’s not working, Please feel free to write and share here: leslieleylandfields@gmail.com