Soul Clinging
Soul Clinging
Declaring a Desperate Dependence
My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me. Psalm 63:8
In a discussion around a table this morning with some brothers we were talking about the lure and the lull of being comfortable. When we are comfortable, we are less likely to move, less likely to change, less likely to depend. David wrote Psalm 63 when he was in the wilderness. A place known throughout the Scriptures as a place of discomfort, danger and disconnection. Wilderness includes wild.
Read Psalm 63:8 in a recliner with a warm tea in hand, the thermostat set at 72 degrees, stomach full with a delicious breakfast, house quiet, it surely has meaning. Read Psalm 63:8 on a makeshift raft, floating on the Pacific, with only a few sips of fresh water left as ten sharks encircle your flotation device, it now has meaning and memory.
As David felt the top of his tongue peel away like sandpaper because it was stuck to the roof of his mouth with dryness, soul clinging to God is remembered and has life and death meaning. As David felt the threat of not only his human enemy, but also the threat of creation’s hungry wildlife encircle his tasty sun-seared flesh, a right hand upholding him is tangible and necessary.
The lie of the enemy from the beginning said that being “like God” would give us what we wanted. We would be satisfied. We would be comfortable. But being like God instead created an existence of survival, of being cut off from the garden of plenty to a wilderness of vast nothingness.
But God, in His grace, doesn’t leave His children there. The wilderness is the place where we are confronted with our sin and our helpless condition in order to cling our very existence to Him. To surrender our very selves be held up by Him. We were wrong. We cannot live apart from you, God. So earnestly we seek you (Psalm 63:1). Our flesh faints for you (Psalm 63:2). Declaring your steadfast love is better than life (Psalm 63:3). Our souls can find a satisfaction in the wild when there is no water, no pillow, no comforter besides the Lord Himself.
Father, may we be willing to allow You to give us discomfort in order that we move, change, depend clingingly upon the grace of Your Son who sits at Your right hand and prays for us, upholds our every minute and every moment. Amen.
Thoughts for Reflection
How has the Lord brought comfort in the gospel to you this week?
Where might life be getting less comfortable for you?
Ask the LORD to reveal to you what He’s doing in the midst of the discomfort.