Soul-soothing Moments, Songs in the Night

Some days bring circumstances that smother us, exhaust us, and break us. With the growing darkness, as the funk deepens, so does the likelihood of destructive behavior. Rational thought retreats, leaving a person at the mercy of his emotions. Despair is fertile soil for weeds like rage, stupidity, and short-sighted decisions!  Temper flares, craving for food, or drink, or sex may arise. But, there is another way, one we learn from a man who hit the bottom of life but did not destroy himself in that moment.

David, who became the beloved poet-king of ancient Israel, lived as a fugitive from the jealous rage of King Saul for many years. He existed on the fringe of society, attracting men of dubious distinction to follow him. They formed a quasi-military force serving as private security at the frontiers. For a time, David and his men moved to the neighboring region of Philistia and served in the employ of the king of the region. They were sent out as raiders and kept a portion of what they found as their pay. During one of their campaigns, the Amalekites raided the village of Ziglag, where the wives and children of David and his men were living.  David came home to a tragic sight! Let’s pick up the story from the Bible. "When (they) saw the ruins and realized what had happened to their families, they wept until they could weep no more. David’s two wives, Ahinoam from Jezreel and Abigail, the widow of Nabal from Carmel, were among those captured. David was now in great danger because all his men were very bitter about losing their sons and daughters, and they began to talk of stoning him.” (1 Samuel 30:3-7, NLT)

David was an outcast for no good reason, a man with a claim to the crown but the hope of ever owning it slim to none, living with riff-raff, earning a living by waging war – it was not a good life but somehow he managed to keep it together until this tragic day. There with the smoking ruins of Ziglag in front of him and the accusatory shouts of his men raining down on him, it all came crashing down. Where was God? Why was all this happening? There is a phrase next up in that story which is worth remembering: “But David found strength in the Lord his God.”  He did not get drunk! He did not run off to Vegas! He went to prayer, pulling away from the noisy shouts of his enraged men. It is not hard to imagine him taking his harp and finding a place alone outside of town, where he sang to God and asked for both help and wisdom. (David and his men did recover their families and their treasure several days later!)

Do you know how to comfort yourself in God?

When tragedy or trouble comes are you able to find solace in worship, peace from His Presence?

One of David’s songs reflects his faith, his hope.

“I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.
My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together.
I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame." (Psalm 34:1-5, NIV)

Knowing when and how to call a personal spiritual retreat reveals both faith and wisdom. Job, whose story of brokenness leaves us horrified, came to the end of himself and looked up to God in worship. Jesus was led to the wilderness and there found himself subjected to intense temptation. His choice? To speak the wisdom of God, the truth of the Psalms. Paul, in spite great sacrifice, was rejected and criticized. He turned to God in worship, singing songs in the night, and God rocked his world. (see Acts 16)  May God, the Spirit of Peace, teach how to walk David’s way and “find strength in the Lord!”

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Precious Lord, take my hand,

Lead me on, let me stand,

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;

Through the storm, through the night,

Lead me on to the light:

Take my hand, precious Lord,

Lead me home.

When the darkness appears

And the night draws near,

And the day is past and gone,

At the river I stand,

Guide my feet, hold my hand:

Take my hand, precious Lord,

Lead me home.

-      Tommy Dorsey, 1932
written after his wife died in childbirth