How’s your heart? Are you overwhelmed? Dismayed?
That’s how King David described himself in Psalm 143. And that’s how I felt when I woke up.
Though the winter sky was baby blue, and the sun’s rays shimmied between the bare tree limbs.
I blamed my mood on a head cold. And yet, sometimes, it’s difficult to pinpoint the reason I’m anxious or depressed.
Thankfully, God knows the human propensity to allow circumstances and emotions to overwhelm us. That’s why He used King David to pen Psalm 143.
Words written centuries ago, but relevant today—in this exact moment—because God’s Word is able to clear the negative voices in a congested head. And point us to a better way of living.
My feral cat was also in a mood.
Stuck outside overnight, she sat on our front porch rail, waiting. Watching me through the kitchen window while I brewed a cup of tea.
When our eyes met, my cat arched her back and meowed. I opened the door, stumbled towards my desk as she weaved in and out between my feet.
Unlike most mornings, my feral cat wanted more than warmth and food. She paced back and forth, rolled on the wood floor. Then she sat by my desk chair, staring at my lap. It’s rare for this independent feline to cuddle, but I saw the debate within her eyes.
Meanwhile, I just “happened” to open my Bible to Psalm 143. It’s the same passage I underlined fourteen years ago when I dealt with anxiety and winter blues. Only this time, I paused at verse 5.
“I remember the days of old. I meditate on all Your doings; I muse on the work of Your hands.”
Remember. Meditate. Muse.
On what?
- My circumstances?
- My emotions?
- My thoughts?
No, we’re told to…
Remember God’s Work. Meditate on the great things the Lord has done. Not only for mankind, but in people’s lives…in my life.
“Dwell much on what I did, as well as what I said. Remember, ‘I touched her hand, and the fever left her.’ Not many words, just a moment’s contact, and all fever left her.” (God Calling)
Lord, please touch my heart so my mood melts into nothingness.
I glanced down at my cat who watched me with the same hesitation that I came before the God. Afraid to ask, as if I was unworthy, or He had greater things to tend to than “my mood.”
I tapped my robe. “Come here.”
Cat ears flinched.
“What? You don’t trust me after all these years?”
My audible words convicted me. Wasn’t this God’s attitude towards me when I hesitate to come to Him? Hesitate to ask?
What keeps folks from wanting more of God, or receiving all He wants to give?
Before I could answer my question, the cat jumped on the desk and settled beside my Bible. Soon, she curled on my lap, purring.
Content; unafraid.
Not unlike her mistress, now resting in God’s capable Hands.
“Let me hear Thy loving kindness in the morning; for I trust in Thee...” (vs.8)
Even In This 