A three-thousand-year-old hymn, a seventeen-year-old, a retiree, and social media:

 Bear with me if you will. As the title line would imply, I begin this post with several strands. Hopefully, I'll be able to braid them together.

Less than a year ago, I retired for the second time. I'm still working on what life is like for a guy, who in the words of a friend, "Reports only to God and his wife." For most of my adult life, having a regular quiet time with the Lord has been a struggle. Many of you are still in the battle of carving out time for what you know is most important when so many other things scream at you with urgent pleas. I figure one of the things I should do with my less demanding schedule is purposefully spend more time with the Lord. Psalms is a book of worship, so I decided that this year I would spend the first half of each month reading through the Psalter. I'm reading these ancient poems in different translations. This month I'm reading the NIrV, the New International Readers Version. It is translated so a fourth-grade reader can understand it. Its short, direct, no-frills structure produces an "in-your-face-ness" that grabs my attention.

Psalm 39 got in my face this morning. If you read it you'll notice that, like many of the psalms, this poem is the expression of someone in distress. David's "heart was deeply troubled." So much so that he wanted to know when his life would end. The psalm is full of plaintive pleas to God. The last words of the Psalm powerfully sum up David's emotion. "Leave me alone. Let me be full of joy again before I die.” 

I've been there. In my years as a pastor, I've seen it and heard it in the lives of many. In recent times, I often read Psalm 39-like complaints/pleas on Facebook. I assume they can be found on other social media, as well. I almost always cringe at these posts of lament. Sometimes I say in my heart, "How sad that this person doesn't have someone close enough, who cares enough, someone they trust to whom they can pour out their heart." Other times, or sometimes at the same time, I think, "This isn't going to turn out well. This person is looking for help, but they are 'looking for love in all the wrong places.'"

This brings me to the part of Psalm 39 that struck me in the face this morning. The second part of verse one says, "I will keep my mouth closed when sinful people are near me.” What wisdom! What difficult to apply when I am hurting wisdom!! 

Fifty-five years ago, though I probably didn't quite know it yet--for sure, I didn't understand it, yet--I was in love with Kathy Marsceau. My heart was bursting with a desire to talk about how wonderful, and sensitive, pretty, and talented this lovely red-headed, sweet-smiling, piano-playing, kind--dare I think it?--Howard-loving young lady was. I soon found, though, that there were places and times when I dare not talk about her. 

I suspect it is still the same, but in those days a guys' locker room after athletic practice was such a place and time. I found that if I just mentioned that I was going to see Kathy later that that comment would be enough to elicit all sorts of vulgar words and looks from my comrades on the wrestling team. I soon made a decision, not unlike the commitment David made in Psalm 39:1. I never mentioned Kathy's name in that maleness amplified environment.

When our heart is full, be it overflowing with sorrow or joy, to quote another of David's psalms, we had better pray, "Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!" (Psalm 141:3 ESV) As David warns in Psalm 39, it is not only what I mean by my

words, but what the wicked may do with my words. 

As Jesus counseled us, “Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you." (Matthew 7:6 ESV)

New International Reader’s Version. (1998). (1st ed., Ps 39:1). Zondervan.

New International Reader’s Version. (1998). (1st ed., Ps 39). Zondervan.