Crying out to the Pain Mender, Planet-Keeper

I wonder if they were going to look at the planets.

We set up the telescope, peering towards the western sky, having anticipated the sight of Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Uranus, and Mars. Lined up near the moon, a stunning display.

I had wanted to feel small. Wanted the kids to feel small, because only in our smallness can we forget ourselves, feel wonder, welcome joy and peace.

We’ve been planning it, looking forward to this, and I wonder if they were too? Did their moms tell them of the galactic majesty that would be coming? Did they have telescopes too? 

When they went to school that dreadful day, did their teachers plan to teach on it? Classmates talk of it? Before the bullets exploded and hell came to hallways?

On the morning of March 28th I opened my prayer journal with a grumble to God, having been praying through the Psalms, and the previous day’s now seemed a mockery. Because on March 27th, before the wicked won, I had read and prayed Psalm 9 and now it seemed a cruel joke. Celebrating God’s justice and stopping of evil, and so on March 28th I sat to pray and sat in resistance and finally returned to the way I’ve learned before when hearts are stunned into cold, I tell Him my honest heart.

Why did you have me read that Psalm? Hours before the opposite would unfold? Where were You in that school? How did You not stop the wicked?

And I pray for the hurting. And here I find some comfort, not in finding answers, but in just sitting with Him in honest lament, and I spend this time in prayer and am about to move on, because this was enough, and I don’t need to do the next Psalm today. But He won’t let me go, and keeps nudging me, read the next Psalm. And I reason again, this was a full prayer time, it’s time for the next step of the day and honestly that Psalm wasn’t quite right yesterday, and I close my prayer journal. I set it aside and am about to stand up but it’s like this physical resistance and again that nudging, Trust Me, read it.

And as soon as I open it I just start sobbing, because isn’t He kind to continually show Himself? 

And here it is, the perfectly timed Word, every one a powerful balm and needed eternal reminder and truths to cling to by faith. I am so overwhelmed when I see the heading, so soul-touched when I read that first verse of question, my question, our question. I just start sobbing, finding the full comfort- the comfort of God so perfectly declaring His here-ness.

He is here and He hears, and when I read the whole chapter I’m stunned by how kindly He gives and receives our words.

Lord, why do you stand so far away?
Why do you hide in times of trouble?
In arrogance the wicked relentlessly pursue their victims;
let them be caught in the schemes they have devised.

For the wicked one boasts about his own cravings;
the one who is greedy curses and despises the Lord.
In all his scheming,
the wicked person arrogantly thinks,
“There’s no accountability,
since there’s no God.”
His ways are always secure;
your lofty judgments have no effect on him;
he scoffs at all his adversaries.
He says to himself, “I will never be moved—
from generation to generation I will be without calamity.”
Cursing, deceit, and violence fill his mouth;
trouble and malice are under his tongue.
He waits in ambush near settlements;
he kills the innocent in secret places.
His eyes are on the lookout for the helpless;
he lurks in secret like a lion in a thicket.
He lurks in order to seize a victim;
he seizes a victim and drags him in his net.
So he is oppressed and beaten down;
helpless people fall because of the wicked one’s strength.
He says to himself, “God has forgotten;
he hides his face and will never see.”

Rise up, Lord God! Lift up your hand.
Do not forget the oppressed.
Why has the wicked person despised God?
He says to himself, “You will not demand an account.”
But you yourself have seen trouble and grief,
observing it in order to take the matter into your hands.
The helpless one entrusts himself to you;
you are a helper of the fatherless.
Break the arm of the wicked, evil person,
until you look for his wickedness,
but it can’t be found.

The Lord is King forever and ever;
the nations will perish from his land.
Lord, you have heard the desire of the humble;
you will strengthen their hearts.
You will listen carefully,
doing justice for the fatherless and the oppressed
so that mere humans from the earth may terrify them no more.

Psalm 10, CSB

I had seen the videos, looked at the pictures, read the details.

Evil waiting in ambush near settlements- elementary schools. The car pulls in, parks.

Eyes on the lookout for the helpless- hallways and classroom doors systematically gone through.

Helpless people- children- falling because of the wicked one’s strength.

And with the Psalmist I cry out, Rise up Lord, God!

And as surveillance tapes replay and pictures of traumatized little ones are shared and news details devastate, then the bodycam video and the voice of Mr. Rogers in my head: Look for the helpers.

I don’t know why God didn’t stop the wicked sooner, but I give thanks for the brave helpers and the stopping that came. And I weep more for a darkened soul so lost.

Lord, why do You stand so far away? Why do You hide in times of trouble?

I’m so thankful that God doesn’t just allow these words, He gives them to us. Gives us the template for lament, for questioning, and He would way rather wrestle with us through the muddled mess than have us silent and separate with our angst.

He would way rather wrestle with us through the muddled mess than have us silent and separate with our angst.

We adjust the telescope, but honestly, we can’t get it right. We’re far from astronomers and with our bare eyes we know we can see some but are blind to others, and navigating this sky is more complicated and less magical than we thought.

And I can’t see Psalm 9 right now, find myself blind to it, but I claim it by faith and with the walk through Psalm 10. I thank God for any ways with our bare eyes we do get to see His justice, His stopping of evil, and I trust with hope in all the ways I’m still blind to it. Knowing just because I can’t see it, don’t have the right tools to glimpse it, His justice will win and He is King forever and one day the wicked will terrify no more.

I look at my third grade boy. My daughter who also loves unicorns. I’m baffled by such evil. Can’t imagine such pain.

But I put my hope in the Pain-Mender, Planet-Keeper.

And I allow myself to weep with those who weep while holding on to such hope.