O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. 

O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. (Psalm 131)
Psalm 131 Song - Sons of Korah - give it a listen. Sons of Korah - big fan.

 

Fake It ‘Til You Make It?

Ever faked it?

There’s an exhaustion that comes with that. Maybe it’s the Sunday morning mask we strap on between leaving the house and walking into church. The "All good... better than I deserve!" response we give when, inside, we feel like a bruised reed or a flickering candle. We’re tempted to act like it’s spiritual to be stoic, to think it’s good to wear the permanent, iron-clad “smile of faith.”

But then we open the Psalms and see something different.

If you’ve lived here for any length of time, you know March is a month of temperamental weather. February is cold. April is springtime. March is “eehhhhh… so-so.” One day it’s 60 degrees with the flowers considering an early arrival. The next, the weather is gross and the biting wind or cold, cold rain remind you that winter isn’t finished yet. Weather-wise, March is transitional, neither here nor there, both good and bad.

Often, that’s how life can be, and for believers, that’s how our Christian life can be. We live in “already but not yet” times. We’re redeemed but still groan. We’re loved but still get lonely. We’ve got Christ in us *AND* the Spirit too, but still struggle to find our keys and sometimes our joy.

This is why we should not just read the Psalms; we should inhabit them, live in them, learn their attitude and ethos, and imitate them. The Psalms are not only the Bible’s songbook or worship playlist; they are as honest about the human condition as the Gospel is and it turns out, honesty is both desired and appropriate before the Lord.

“Deep End” Vocabulary

Sometimes our prayer lives can get stuck in the shallows. We ask for safety, provision, or the occasional parking spot - and there’s nothing wrong with any of that! But that kind of praying doesn’t cover “the dark night of the soul” or “the valley of the shadow of death.”

The Psalms give us the vocabulary for faith in life’s deep end when we need it. They show us that God is not bothered by our honesty. Whether it is an exuberant "Hallelujah" (Psalm 150) or a gut-wrenching "Why have you forsaken me?" (Psalm 22), the Psalmists understand something we can forget: Active trust is not the absence of struggle; it is the presence of God in our struggles.

To live in the Psalms is to recognize that our emotions are real but they’re not our boss or bottom line. The Psalmists do not ignore their feelings; they interrogate them and point them heavenward. They take their fears, angers, and their "how long O Lords" and hurl them toward the throne of grace. It’s not irreverence; it is intimacy. You don’t keep coming to someone you don’t think is listening, and the Psalms keep coming. Whether your heart is pretty or ugly, your faith presentable or not, He is ready for you today. At least, that’s what the Psalms tell me!

Faith-Fueled Confidence

Ultimately, the heartbeat of the Psalms is a faith-fueled confidence in the God who saves, delivers, and intervenes. But if you’ve read them, you know that confidence looks different in different seasons.

In good seasons, that confidence looks like gratitude. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits" (Psalm 103.)  It’s easy to trust God when the bank account is full and the kids are behaving.

In hard season, that confidence may look like clinging. "Deep calls to deep... Why are you cast down, O my soul" (Psalm 42.)  Active trust comes in, maybe even as a last resort. It’s the holy "Nevertheless," the trust of honest but clinging faith. It says, “The world is falling apart, my heart is breaking, nevertheless, I will hope in God.”

This is a secret to a life of worship. It’s the realization that God’s character is our bedrock and foundation, not our circumstances. When our hope is tied to our situation we’re as fickle as the weather. When our hope is tied to the One who spoke the weather into existence, we can have faith-fueled hope even when the sky is gray. Like the Psalms.

Selah!

Finally, we aren't the first ones to sing these songs.

Think of Jesus - the Psalms were His prayer book. He sang them with His disciples in the Upper Room. He quoted them while hanging on the Cross. He is the ultimate "man of sorrows" (Psalm 53) and "King of Glory" (Psalm 24.)

When we live in the Psalms, we walk the same path He did. We learn to trust the Father just as He did. We’re not reading ancient poetry; we’re engaging with the Spirit of Christ through His Word, His Holy-Spirit-breathed-out Word. He can sustain us through every shift in our soul's geography or our circumstances. And He will.

So let’s stop faking it and pretending that faith means having it all together. Let’s dive into the Psalms and find the freedom to be fully human in the presence of the God who is big enough to handle our full, unedited selves.

“Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. Selah!" (Psalm 62:8)