May 18 2019 Psalm 55

I have no peace, because of my cares.



Psalm 55 is one of those that when I get partway through I recognize. It’s about this betrayal, and grief. One poignant section refers to betrayal, “if it had been an adversary who taunted me, I could have borne it… but it was you .. my companion, my own familiar friend”. Anyone who’s ever felt betrayed by a close companion feels the pain in these words, and when I reach that point in the psalm where I recognize that this is the betrayal psalm, my heart is musing the “but it was you…”.



I like that about psalms; there’s a phrase or sentiment that catches your breath, and because the words were written thousands of years ago, that distance and anonymity allow me to feel those feels all over again. I can laugh and cry and shake my fist at God, because the psalmist is speaking the words on my behalf. And as I become more familiar with the psalms, my ability to adopt that sentiment is quicker and more personal.


This morning, I read this psalm, saw the lines about betrayal, and lamented over past betrayals. But something else happened. I tripped over another line I’ve missed in the past, as my brain focused in on the betrayal theme. I have no peace, because of my cares.



It is true, we read the psalms from where we are, and the Spirit speaks through the words to that place where we are. And it is true, I have many cares. My sick loved one is returning from the hospital after over 2 weeks. They are not all better, and my home life will be appreciably less care-free. And yet…



Thinking about care or care-free, I’m struck by how internal those are. Being care-free does not mean that in the outside world, everything is perfect, there are no problems. Rather, it seems it’s more a state of mind. Regardless of what’s going on, people can be care-free. In a similar way, having cares doesn’t necessarily equate to the reality of what’s going objectively in the world. There are some people who seem to have heavy burdens, but I wouldn’t ascribe much value to what their worrying about. 


That’s not to say that I should be judging the validity of their perceived burdens. Rather, I say this to make a distinction between the reality of what’s going on in the world, versus our perception of those things, and the burdensome weight we ascribe. They are different things. There are events and circumstances in our lives. And there is the impact we allow them to have on our soul. These are different.



This morning, I’m thinking about my changing world, and the objective factual things that change in it, and how that is not the same as ‘my cares’, which has more to do with how I internalize those things, or how much I allow them to weigh me down. I want to recognize that events are events. Circumstances are circumstances. And neither of those need to become cares. I don’t want to have to say, I have no peace because of my cares. Rather, I want to say, I have peace, despite my circumstances.