“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?”
I have been drawn back to this psalm again and again over the last few months. It gives me words when I am emptied of them, when I need to cry out but don’t know what to say. It was tough to rise from bed this morning. Since the stay in the hospital, things have become worse. I’ve fallen or collapsed more often, possibly even damaging my tailbone when I hit the floor twice within a few minutes. I am in pain and still have trouble walking. It’s hard to eat, and sometimes, I’ve forced myself to do so. Pain in my stomach and head make it hard to work.
The last few weeks have been a constant rotation among doctors and work, with any trips to the farm an immense blessing. There are days where I can still only sit and watch others do chores and see my sheep jump and skip at the scene of their dinner being brought for them.
The end of the psalm says,
“But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for he has been good to me.”
And I think of the comfort he has provided in these times: a new lamb at the beginning of October, a warm house, Tylenol, the creativity of blogs and videos I can bury myself in, and a significant otter who constantly tells me that he will be with me in this fight every step of the way.
“Nevertheless God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus.”
~2 Cor. 7:6