For Weary Travelers
The psalmist begins here with a journey through lament and into a distinct setting of sight on God’s character and beckoning for deliverance. The psalm ends with praise. If I’m honest, I’ve been weary of being weary for a long time. My eyes are often dry and my mind can spin and spin. The darkness is not merely the absence of light nor is bereavement marked by only sorrow. I just keep doing the next thing. I can preach truths to my own soul that still land on a heart that doesn’t always accept those truths stored up in my mind. Sometimes I muscle through the very next thing, waiting on the sigh of relief or breath of fresh air, only for it to feel as the tiniest pip and trod on waiting for the next. Darkness doesn’t always beget a redemption story at every turn around the bend. Darkness is sometimes just dark. I miss my kid and I struggle to let him linger in my mind in the space of sweet remembrance most of the time. Most of the time it leads to gut-wrenching t