This observation will be short, owing to the lack of anything truly inspiring to hit me this morning from the daily reading.
I like the Psalms, though it wasn’t always that way. The older I have gotten and the more trials and tribulations I have gone through, the more I see the efficacy of these cries to the Lord.
One day as I was driving, I was pouring out my heart and soul to the Lord, trying desperately to put words to the agony I was experiencing. Then it came floating up… I began praying the Psalms of old, not perfectly, not in order, but they were Psalms. Bits and pieces strung together began to adequately express what I was trying to communicate to God and it was wonderful.
The result of that little session was a strong desire to know more of the Psalms. From their eloquent beauty and power in exalting and praising God to the poignancy and angst of soul in crying out, these Psalms hit the mark.
I have been blessed in many ways through these recordings of man’s cry to God… I wish to make them my own.
