SingingTheBlues
Psalm 102 Singing the Blues
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My days vanish like smoke;
my bones burn like glowing embers.
My heart is blighted and withered like grass;
I forget to eat my food.
In my distress I groan aloud
and am reduced to skin and bones.
I lie awake; I have become
like a bird alone on a roof.
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This is not one of the warm fuzzy psalms that gets put on greeting cards and bumper stickers
This is an urgent plea from the pit of despair
We don't read psalms like this in church
They seem too raw--too impolite--for worship
That's a shame, because it creates the illusion that God is only for those who have it all together
Not for those who are heartbroken or depressed
But the church is a hospital for broken sinners, not a country club for saints
If your heart is broken, you don't have to pretend
You can be honest to God with your heartache
It's good to know the days of joyful noise are coming
But God is with you on the blue days as well

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