My blender is revving up with its loud whir when the door bangs open and my grandson runs in from outdoors.
He puts on the brakes barely past the threshold, stops, and covers his ears. I see terror in his big blue eyes and quickly turn to find the little button to stop the loud grinding. He’s already outside but the ghost of his fearful eyes stays in my heart. Oh how he hates loud noises.
I softly call his name, I want him to know he is safe and there is nothing to fear, but he’s back pumping his little arms and running across the grass.
I love the honesty of the Psalms, the raw reality of wondering where is God when I need Him most?
My husband calls it “the thundering silence of God.”
It has resounded in some of our own halls of pain and sorrow, but after the rumble passes, it’s as though all along sweet music of praise played underneath. Like the Psalmists, sometimes my ears can’t hear its crescendo through the noise of my suffering. Don’t be fooled by the silent echo of prayer Click To Tweet
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest. (Psalm 22:2 ESV)
As much as I love the honesty of the Psalms, its resonating questions, I also love the answers of the Psalms. Unexpected and sometimes hidden, they display deep emotion, but all the while moving how we feel to what is truth. Even when “why’s” still beg for response, the writers of the Psalms remind us Who is truth.
Psalm 22 paints an abstract painting, which we see more clearly now because we have an overlay of Christ’s life and suffering. Like tracing paper laid on top of David’s word, colors of a blood stained cross emerge. Written long before the birth of Jesus, Psalm 22 points its finger toward a coming Redeemer. Even when “why’s” still beg for response, the writers of the Psalms remind us Who is truth. Click To Tweet
Brush strokes throughout David’s affliction in Psalm 22 foretold a picture so majestic, it can only be revealed in hints and segments. But, we can already see it will be terrifyingly beautiful.
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? David asks. (Psalm 22:1) His enemies surrounded him. They ridiculed and treated him unjustly. He ran like a fugitive and hid like an animal. They were after blood. They wanted him dead.
David’s wounded words remind us today, don’t be fooled by the silent echo.
David’s personal feelings of abandonment were echoed in Jesus’ agony of abandonment as the bearer of our sins.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cried out David’s same heart wrenching words.
Did David know? Did he know that his anguished cry would one day be repeated from the lips of the Savior? The mocking, taunting, dividing garments by lot, piercing of his hands and feet, and betrayal, all spoken of hundreds of years before Christ, whispered of something greater.
“For he has not despised or abhorred
the affliction of the afflicted,
and he has not hidden his face from him,
but has heard, when he cried to him.” Psalm 22:24 ESV
Some of you may ask today like David did, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Your question might come in grief and it may be tinged in hues of unanswered petitions.
But keep reading.
“…he has not hidden his face from him,
but has heard, when he cried to him.”
The tomb is empty. He has not forsaken us. He has not hidden His face. He is not like the child with ears held shut by two unyielding hands. He hears. He sees.
David, trusted that even though he only could hear a silent echo, the Lord, the Holy One of Israel, continued to pay attention. Nothing passes Him by.
Don’t be fooled by a silent echo.