“Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the end of the earth I call to you, when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you are my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy. Let me abide in your tent forever, find refuge under the shelter of you wings.”--Psalm 61:1-4
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. This shouldn’t be hard when I am so low, to lead me higher. When I say I need refuge, I just need a bit of shelter to see me through today, and tomorrow I will start again. I need enough grace to make it through this hour, and really, you always come through.
The bitterness arises when I want flat-out permanent escape from pain. You never deliver that, and I grow mad that I am still hurting. I convince myself you do not care, that you do nothing, that my prayers do nothing. I do not want shelter; I want the complete obliteration of my suffering. In that sense, you do not deliver. You do not rescue.
But hour by hour you are there. Each moment of grief, I do not die, though it feels like it will kill me. Even when I do not know it, being alive is grace. Every waking day where there is agony, there is also somewhere beauty, if I pay attention. In the dregs of depression, there is occasional smile, even joy. Amongst assailants, I have tower, though it be invisible. Even when I feel lost, I am sheltered beneath wings.
I give thanks for this solitary rock on which I sit, two inches above destruction. Two inches is enough, and I am saved.
Kyndall Rae Rothaus is the pastor of Covenant Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas. On Sunday, May 31, 2015, she was called by Lake Shore Baptist Church in Waco, Texas, to be their new pastor. Kyndall is the author of Preacher Breath, available at Smyth and Helwys. She blogs at kyndallrae.com.