For the choir director: A psalm of David.
I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
and he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
They will put their trust in the Lord.
Oh, the joys of those who trust the Lord,
who have no confidence in the proud
or in those who worship idols.
O Lord my God, you have performed many wonders for us.
Your plans for us are too numerous to list.
You have no equal.
If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds,
I would never come to the end of them.
You take no delight in sacrifices or offerings.
Now that you have made me listen, I finally understand—
you don’t require burnt offerings or sin offerings.
Then I said, “Look, I have come.
As is written about me in the Scriptures:
I take joy in doing your will, my God,
for your instructions are written on my heart.”
I have told all your people about your justice.
I have not been afraid to speak out,
as you, O Lord, well know.
I have not kept the good news of your justice hidden in my heart;
I have talked about your faithfulness and saving power.
I have told everyone in the great assembly
of your unfailing love and faithfulness.
Muddy boots
I grew up on a farm where my shoes were always dirty. In order to get from the road to the house you had to cross the grass since there was no sidewalk to the front door. Even my church shoes were dirty.
My mom was a saint. We would walk into the house with our barn boots on to use the bathroom or grab a drink on a hot day. If our shoes were real dirty, (leaving obvious tracks) we would try to put down newspaper to catch the dirt, but newspaper is not all that effective. If I left tracks anywhere other than the kitchen I would do my best to clean them up with an old towel or mop, but most of the time the evidence took a more concentrated approach.
When I come to God I come with muddy boots. I try to get the dirt off them by shaking them or pounding them on the pavement, but some dirt just will not come off. God in his mercy is wonderful. He lets me in his house with my muddy boots on just like mom did, and cleans me up. God picks me up out of the mud and sets me on the solid rock. I don’t have to be perfect, I can come just as I am and God accepts me.
I praise you Lord for accepting me muddy boots and all. Your love, mercy and grace are so amazing. Thank you for cleaning me up and giving me new shoes to wear that are no longer muddy and for guiding me in the path of clean walking. - Dan Jones
Life in and after the pit
There are always pits. Some are the deep and dark nights of soul when I cry out, “My God why have you forsaken me” (Ps 22) Some pits dole out emotional trauma and mixed up thinking that result in bitter words, “Leave me alone, God, so I can smile again” (Ps 39). Other pits, those with jerks camped at the top, assault my God-given sense of justice and I pray “Give them a taste of their own medicine” (Ps 35).
Rather than camp out in the depths with “peace that passes understanding,” or in prayer for those who treat me poorly, or with a heart full of thanksgiving and praise, or patiently waiting on God, more often than not, my raw edges show up. Most people around me only see the former responses. But God sees my jumbled up responses deep inside.
I am glad God doesn’t decide whether or not to deliver me from life’s pits based on how I handle them! Sooner or later, but always at just the right time, God lifts me out and plants me back on solid rock. He even exchanges the dirge I sang in the pit for a new song of joy.
God always delivers me from my pits. Always.
Best of all, God never delivers back to the same place I was before. He always puts my feet down in a place of new insight, new strength, and new likeness to Christ. Not only does he give me a song very different from the one in he pit, he gives me a better song than the one I sang on the other side of that pit!
Looking back over 48 years of pits and deliverances, I’ve discovered a trend; a God-thing happening to me. The songs I sing in the pit have an increasingly noticeable counter melody of praise. Why, I’m even praying for the jerks lurking at the top, and not for God to get ‘em! And, on occasion, I’m even exploring the terrain at the bottom for veins of gold!
God of muddy pits and solid ground, thanks for my slowly changing tune at pit’s bottom and the new ground to which ground you always deliver me. I confess your faithfulness and depend on your grace. – Mike Leamon
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