Jeff Lark

  God, sometimes it feels like your hand is too heavy upon us. David surely knew what this felt like. It took everything in him to hold his tongue in the presence of his enemies so he wouldn't give them another opportunity to mock him and you. And while he remained silent, his frustration and anger toward you reached a boiling point (v. 3). Then, it all came out. As it came out, he fumed, "God, you have stripped me of everything, and I have been brought to the point where I see my life as but a breath. I have no more strength in and of myself. My life is but a shadow that quickly disappears. I know I only have you. I have learned my lesson - so would you let up a bit? I've had all that I can take. Turn away from me so that I can again find happiness" (v. 10-13). God, it's a bold prayer. Throughout David's prayers so far, he wanted to see your face. Your face meant your pleasure. But now, like a child who can't look his parents in the eye after they catch

  God, I hate the feeling. I’ve been there too many times to count. The pain. The shame. The despair. The discouragement. The anguish. The Anger. And God, it’s good that I’m not alone. As David is feeling the weight of his sin, he says in v. 8, “I am feeble (numb with pain) and crushed (broken), I groan because of the tumult of my heart.” The word “tumult” is only used in one other place in the Hebrew Scriptures. Isaiah 5:30 uses it in reference to the churning of waves. God, David’s heart was like a tumultuous sea. Sin and its devastating effects had so ravaged his heart, as Isaiah says, like a prowling lion. God, I don’t like to feel this. And so, I try to deny or dismiss my sin. I hide behind self-righteousness. I lie to myself and others. Teresa of Avila said, “We need to sit amongst our weeds.” God, I don’t like seeing my weeds, much less sitting in them. But God, you were taking David, and you’re taking me on a journey. As Dallas Willard says, you are taking us “on a journey to

  Waiting, fretting, and the struggle of faith God, I certainly am a product of our microwave culture. 5G is better than LTE, and why would I not select the fastest route when Apple Maps gives me three options? Some cultures seem to be not as concerned with fast and efficient. Spending a week in Chad (Africa) opened my eyes to the reality that time in their culture is calculated differently. Relationships defined time, not the watch (this was excruciatingly hard for me to learn). People lingered. They talked. They laughed. And in my anxious mind, they were late for the next thing. God, in Psalm 37, David seems to be saying that you are a lot more like my friends from Chad than a suburban American. And because you don’t operate on my timetable, my anxious mind thinks you are often late. God, three times this psalm calls me to wait (v. 7, 8, 34). Two different Hebrew words are used, but both include an element of pain. One comes from the pain of stretching and straining. The other word

Fear and Hate God, these are two words that, growing up, I wasn’t allowed to feel and experience. In fact, “hate” was essentially a bad word. And as a boy (and even now as a grown man), fear was seen as a weakness. But God, these are two words that make up wisdom. And they are two words that have been absent for far too long in my Christian experience. I have often been confounded by what it means to “fear the Lord.” As a New Testament believer who believes in eternal security, I wasn’t discipled to “fear the Lord.” I was taught to love him, serve him, sacrifice for him, pray to him, confess him, and follow him. But, to fear him wasn’t a part of my discipleship. But God, in this psalm as well as in Proverbs 8:13, you give some definition to what it means to fear you. Proverbs 8:13 says, “To fear the Lord is to hate evil.” And, here in Psalm 35:1-2, you say that the wicked have no fear of God before their eyes, but instead flatter themselves to the point that they can’t see and hate

God, in my bubble of relative safety and justice, it is hard to imagine praying this prayer. But, if I imagine myself as a black man only blocks from his mother’s house, pulled over and beaten without cause, I can imagine praying this psalm. I can hear Tyre Nichols, along with David praying verses 15-21. [15] But at my stumbling they rejoiced and gathered; they gathered together against me; wretches whom I did not know tore at me without ceasing; [16] like profane mockers at a feast, they gnash at me with their teeth. [17] How long, O Lord, will you look on? Rescue me from their destruction, my precious life from the lions! [18] I will thank you in the great congregation; in the mighty throng I will praise you. [19] Let not those rejoice over me who are wrongfully my foes, and let not those wink the eye who hate me without cause. [20] For they do not speak peace, but against those who are quiet in the land th

  Psalm 34 is no random assortment of verses.  This is another acrostic psalm. David very intentionally started each successive line with the next letter in the Hebrew alphabet.   So, I’ve attempted to take the heart of each line and write it using the English alphabet. Since there are only 22 Hebrew letters, I did not complete all 26 of the English alphabet. And David’s acrostic wasn’t perfect (the “w” verse was missing, and he replaced the last verse with a “p”), so I decided that it would be ok to skip “Q”. 1 A heart of praise shall continually fill my mouth, 2 boasting in him is my soul’s desire; let the humble join in on the praise. 3 Come, let us together make God look good; let us exalt his name together. 4 Deliverance came to me when I sought him; he has delivered me from my greatest fears. 5 Eyes that look to you beam with light; their faces shall never look down in shame. 6 Famished, I cried to you, and you heard me; you saved me out of my troubles. 7 Grace surrounds all th

  Lord, I’m writing this a couple of days after the Presidential State of the Union address. God, during the speech (and every State of the Union speech), half of the floor spends most of the evening on their feet and clapping while the other sits on their hands (or even yells “liar”). Occasionally (and very occasionally), the president says something that causes the whole floor to rise to their feet in applause. But God, no matter the plans and promises, this psalm is a healthy warning that, as you sovereignly look down from heaven (v. 13), and while your plans stand forever, you bring the plans of the nations to nothing (v. 10-11). God, forgive me for times when I’ve put my hope in a president or his promises. Forgive me for being surprised when their plans fail or are thwarted. Forgive me for thinking that our nation is sovereign, forgetting that you are the only true sovereign. God, this psalm realigns my heart to where my only hope is - “Let your steadfast love be upon us, even a

  God, this psalm is so incredibly freeing - and not for the obvious reasons. I do praise you for the forgiveness it pronounces. But, there is more being declared in this psalm - liberating truths that led Paul to use a portion of it in Romans 4. God, this psalm uses words I wouldn't expect from a man who has just greatly sinned. Unlike Psalm 51, we don't know for sure that this psalm was written after his affair and murder. Nonetheless, David uses words that bring surprising clarity where maybe there's been misunderstanding. Up to this point in the Psalter, David has used the word "righteous" about people (v. 11) eight times. He's used the word "upright" (v. 11) three times. And he's used the word "godly" (v. 6) seven times. In each of these times, one could walk away with the impression that David was talking about moral superiority in contrast to the wicked. For example, the pillar psalm of Psalm 1 contrasts the righteous and the wi

  Jesus, there are echoes of your death reverberating throughout this psalm. To a degree, this is your story. In fact, on the cross, you prayed v. 5, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” Just as David said about himself in this psalm, it is stated that you, too, were a man of sorrows acquainted with grief (v. 9, 10). At your crucifixion, you knew the pain and shame of v. 11-13 - an object of dread to your acquaintances; you knew what it felt like to have your friends flee from you; you became a broken vessel; you heard the whispers of those who sought to take your life. Jesus, I have no doubt that David knew you because his life so closely matched yours. His life took on a form that resembled the cross - it was truly cruciform. And Jesus, I think this is what Paul meant when he said that he wanted to know you in the power of your resurrection and the fellowship of your sufferings, becoming like you in your death (Philippians 3:10). Jesus, modern-day American Christianity doesn’t want

  God, as I think about the temptation that captured David’s heart in v. 6, I think of this quote from Tim Keller in his book Jesus the King as he talks about how the center of Christianity throughout history has always been moving: “In the interview with Andrew Walls, he was asked, “Why does this happen? If the centers of other religions remain constant, why does the center of Christianity constantly change?” Walls replied, “One must conclude, I think, that there is a certain vulnerability, a fragility, at the heart of Christianity. You might say that this is the vulnerability of the cross.”50 The heart of the gospel is the cross, and the cross is all about giving up power, pouring out resources, and serving. Walls hinted that when Christianity is in a place of power and wealth for a long period, the radical message of sin and grace and the cross can become muted or even lost. Then Christianity starts to transmute into a nice, safe religion, one that’s for respectable people who try t

  (Written on 2/2/23) God, last night I heard your voice. Like the boy Samuel, I didn’t know it was your voice at the time. But I awoke to thunder and the sounds of my oaks twisting and crashing. Three days of ice had taken its toll, and their limbs gave way under the last round of fury and ice last night. God, I could chalk all of this up to a cold front mixing with moisture from the gulf. It could be explained with physics, determining how much ice our tree limbs could bear. Or, with David, I can hear your voice in the thunder and ice and the cracking of oaks. God, give me ears to hear. And God, it’s only when I can hear your voice in the storm that I can know peace (v. 11). If this were explained scientifically, I would only be able to find peace in wishful thinking or in having the right insurance. But, when I hear your majestic voice, I can worship…I can respond with awe and reverence…and I can be reminded that you are the King over the storms and you are the savior who can

  God, I am not a geologist, and I don’t know much about rocks. But I can do a quick google search and see that there are three types of rocks - sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic. But I have no idea what that means. But there are two things I do know about rocks - they don’t speak, and they don’t listen. But that’s not what David believed. This is the confusing imagery that David uses in v. 1. But God, to be honest, sometimes prayer can feel like I’m speaking to a literal rock. You are silent and come across as not listening. And as a result, there have been many seasons in my life when I return the favor - I stop speaking to you and stop listening. In those times, I read the Bible for information rather than for transformation. It’s in these seasons where ritual and routine take over the relationship. God, thank you for the reminder that you are a rock who speaks and listens. Thank you for being sure, steady, immovable, yet intimate, tender, and responsive to my cries.

  God, playing hide and seek is fun as kids, but not so fun when we feel like we’re the ones who are “it,” and you are the one hiding. David’s one request - the one thing he was seeking (v. 4), the one thing his heart was set on (v. 8), was to dwell in your presence and see your face. In fact, you are the one who asked him seek his face (v. 8)…you were the one who initiated this game of hide and seek. But, in this game of hide and seek, David uses the word “hide” in two different ways. First, he is confident that you will hide him in the shadow of your wings in the day of trouble (v. 3). But, in v. 9, he begs you not to hide your face from him. God, which game of hide and seek are you playing? Will you hide us in the shadow of your wings? Or will you hide your face from us? Will you protect us, or will you leave us cold, exposed, and alone? God, just like David, it can feel like both. There are moments of confident assurance that you’ve got me. But there are other times when y

  Jesus, as with many of the psalms, you again perfectly fulfilled Psalm 26. The language of this psalm reflects the righteous person in Psalm 1. David uses 5 of the exact words as in Psalm 1 - sit, walk, stand, wicked, and sinners. So, this psalm reflects the actions, attitudes, loves, and hates of the righteous. But, Jesus, does it truly reflect you? Verse 4 is where I’m thrown off. Instead of hating the assembly of evildoers and not sitting with the wicked, you ate and drank with them. You were accused of being a drunk (Matthew 11:19) because of your association with sinners. You loved sitting with sinners. You truly loved eating with them and drinking with them. You loved being their friend. Jesus, this is where my self-righteousness rears its ugly head. My “righteousness” often leads me to look down on “sinners.” It leads me to disassociate. It leads me to hide. It leads me to judge. It leads me to condemn.   I don’t think these words are what David had in mind when