Let it All Out

I remember reading Rachel Held Evans' book (the one that Jeff Chu brought to life) that came out after her death. It’s called Wholehearted. You may have heard of it.

I love her writing and was so sad when she passed away. It felt like she could have been my friend though I didn’t know her.

I read her last book slowly. 

On page 150 of her book she takes a part of Psalm 119 and uses it as a template for her own heart's cry. Like the Psalmist, she mentions both large and small events, the past and present, and both the good and the challenging. She lays out her heart as an act of true worship.

In this world of “pull it together”, “keep a stiff upper lip”, and “put on your poker face” hiddenness, the Psalms are there to help us to let it all out. 

They are a broad smorgasbord of feelings and circumstances that encourage us to give voice to those feelings. I appreciate that. 

Giving voice to feelings gives us dignity and gives God honor. I feel like God is delighted when we are aware enough of our inner landscape to rejoice, or be sad, or rage. 

I imagine God says, “It’s about time!”

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So, here’s a very belated thank you, Rachel. You’ve inspired me to do the same.

Here’s my own version of (part of) Psalm 119

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With my whole heart, I cry out to you, God.

With all of my needs.

With all the hope I have that this year and the election cycle will end well.

With all my frustration and fear that it might not and all the judgment I hand out when I think I know why.

With all my disgust at social media and at myself for letting it distract me regularly.

With all my joy that I have a soft chair to sit in in front of a fire every cold morning and all my delight that I have a warm beverage to drink while I am sitting there.

With all my sadness at the endless parade of children dying in senseless wars, death from shootings and my anger that it has become commonplace.

With all my curiosity as I look back over the circuitous route you took me on to bring me to this place and all my thankfulness that you never have left my side even when I have tried to leave yours.

With all my (innumerable) worries concerning those I love (which might be connected to control). 

With all my disgust at pop-culture that repels me and yet attracts me enough to keep distracting me.

With all my tears at seeing the lines drawn to keep precious people away from the table of communion with God who said “whosoever will, may come” and dies with arms open.

With all my desire to love the way you love, God and to also open my arms.

With all my heart, I cry.

Thank you for always being here with me.

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