Sunday Is Coming

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, March 26th, 2023:
The Fifth Sunday of Lent

---

Psalm 130

R. With the Lord there is steadfast love and great power to redeem.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!

R. With the Lord there is steadfast love and great power to redeem.

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand? But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.

R. With the Lord there is steadfast love and great power to redeem.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning.

R. With the Lord there is steadfast love and great power to redeem.

For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities.

R. With the Lord there is steadfast love and great power to redeem.

I am having a profound run in the parching desert during this Lent. Oh, how I am struggling! There are days when I feel as if I have fallen into the pit, and I’m too weary to even whisper a cry for help. A hurricane of worldly activity whips around me — and there I am, hunkered down in the pit, my arms wrapped around the knees that are drawn up to my chin, like a little child. Frightened. Sad. Despairing. Hiding from the storm.

I’m astounded by this feeling of despair. After all, I know how over this past year the Lord has carried me so completely through a significant health issue, challenges with our grown children losing their home and moving in with us, sticky situations at work. I could name a hundred ways that He has shown up in my life and the lives of those whom I love. In times of tangible suffering, I knew He was with me, and I joyfully shared that with anyone who would listen.

But during this Lent, I have remained silent. I have retreated to my humanness, choosing to focus on perceived slights, and withdrawing from God. Instead of turning to prayer, I have chosen solitude, leaning into the frenzied dust storms around me.

And, then, along comes this psalm. It assures me that God is hearing me, even when my soul is too tired to call out for Him and I am behaving like a sullen child. The psalmist reminds me that every prayer is heard and answered by and through Him, who is love. 

I’ve read that Lent involves a series of passages: from darkness to light, loss to gain, fear to trust, sorrow to joy and, ultimately, death to life. How blessed are we that our God, in His wisdom, gave us Jesus as the ultimate example of how to move through these passages? When Jesus suffered fear and anxiety in the Garden, He surrendered fully to His Father’s will. He knew that, although it was Friday and He was to suffer pain and anguish at the hands of the world that day, Sunday was coming.  

So, I wait for the Lord. My soul waits, and in His word I hope. That is all He asks of me — to wait in expectancy and hope. The storms may continue, but I am reminded that, through my baptism, I have a choice. I can remain in the pit, wrapped in my misery, or I can accept the outstretched hand of grace assuring me that all will be well and done according to His will, which is always perfect.



​Sandy Graves

---