Song 133

feet floating on a pool raft
Photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titlap/3901537243/">Julien Haler</a>

Psalm 133

It’s so good when people can all just get along!
It’s like taking a long hot soak in the tub
With aromatherapy oils,
Like putting on a robe
And kicking back in your favorite chair.
It’s like the dew on the mountainside
That makes everything green with life.
Life! God’s ultimate blessing,
Life forever!

Song 118 – Abridged

ticker-tape parade
Photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tedkerwin/2244756683/">Ted Kerwin</a>

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

Thank God, because God is good.
God’s love is always reliable.
Let Israel say:
“God’s love is always reliable.”
Let the clergy say:
“God’s love is always reliable.”
Let everyone who follow God say:
“God’s love is always reliable.”

Open the gates to what’s right
So I can enter through them
And thank God.
It’s God’s gate,
And those who do right will enter it.

I thank you for answering me,
And for helping me, and rescuing me.
The stone that didn’t pass quality control
Is now the stone holding up the whole building.
God did this. It’s amazing to see.
God made this day.
Let’s celebrate and live it up!

Rescue us, God. We’re imploring you.
We’re imploring you for success.

The one who comes in God’s name is special.
We acclaim you from God’s house.
God is God,
And God has lit our way
As we march in a ticker-tape parade up to the altar.

You are my God. I will thank you.
You are my God. I will rave about you.

Thank God. God is good.
God’s love is always reliable.

Song 51 – Abridged

bloody hands
Image credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/filmyz/5419554399/">Jeff Filman</a>

Psalm 51:1-12

Take it easy on me, God.
Do the loving thing,
Do the impossible thing:
Pretend I never did it.
Even though I’m guilty as hell,
Grant me a full pardon.

I know I’m guilty,
How can I not wallow in my shame?
I’ve broke my promise to you,
Crossed the line, in plain sight.
Nobody would blame you
For sentencing me to what I deserve.
I was born guilty,
Bad to the bone from the moment I was born.

You want the real truth, not just platitudes,
But a heart-felt truth deep down.
Give me an enema. Clean me out.
Wash me. Make me pure again.
I wish I could be happy again!
If only these bones, ground down, could rejoice again!
Don’t look at the mess I am.
Can you please fix what I’ve broken?
Make my heart right again, God.
Make my spirit right again.
Don’t throw me out!
Don’t cut yourself off from me!
Restore me! I’d be so glad
My spirit would be willing to do anything!

Song 6

sad girl
Photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/2592180803/">D Sharon Pruitt</a>

Psalm 6

God, don’t take your anger out on me,
Or punish me out of rage.

Take it easy on me,
Can’t you see, I’m dying here!
God, help me get better.
I am sick to the bone,
And I’m totally terrified.
God, how long will this go on?

Save my life, God!
Save me because you love me!
Dead people can’t remember you,
Or give you any commendation.

I’m tired of moaning.
Every night I flood my bed with tears.
Every night I soak my mattress.
I can’t see through the tears,
And I’m weak from stress.

Get away from me, you bastards!
God has heard my crying.
God has heard my prayers.
Now all my enemies will be embarrassed,
And they’ll know what it is to be afraid.
They lose!
Their fortunes turn to ruin on a dime.

Some Bibles add a heading about this being prayer of recovery from illness. But if it’s illness, it’s what in the modern world we have come to identify with severe depression and anxiety.

All of the moaning and crying, and even sickness to the bone, is brought on from worry. Worry about the actions of someone else, about things that are beyond our control – enemies. In the end, it turns to bitterness.

Truly, worry is one of the most paralyzing emotions. Little by little it draws the circle of vision inward and constricts the soul, until there is nothing left but bitterness. The psalmist is right in identifying death as being the ultimate result. If not physical death, spiritual and emotional death. Even God seems far off when we are reduced to worry, and everyone becomes an enemy.

What’s the value of a psalm like this?

Hold it up as a picture of where you don’t want to go. Don’t let this happen to you. Don’t let yourself become so obsessed with someone else that you cry yourself to sleep every night, night after night, and waste away day after day. Or if you see yourself in this picture now, get help. Depression is treatable.

Nobody should have to live in this Psalm’s world.