This morning’s devotional comes from Kate Norris.
“Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.”
This psalm comes from a person at the bottom of the ocean. He has been deafened by the roar of a waterfall and crushed under the pounding surf of the sea. There is darkness all around and profoundly honest confession. Death.
I had a friend say to me the other day that he used to pray for direction and guidance in his life but now he feels so out of control that it’s simply, save me. This is the thing of which we’re most afraid. The car has crashed. The divorce paper is signed. The child is frightened. The depression has rendered us incompetent. It might be happening to us, be true about us; it’s what we can’t stop, try as we might. It is defeat.
It’s a dark place. It’s where we could not be more scared, more angry, more despairing, more unattractive, more selfish. Many of us live with this everyday in some way; and sometimes it all comes crashing in.
The psalm says that God is at the bottom with us, speaking to this deep, dark, repressed place. Shockingly, he uses whatever thing it happens to be today to address us there. That is how we are first introduced to him—in some area of our failure and his unending forgiveness; and despite however good a day we might be having we come to him no other way. At the bottom of the cross, under the waterfall of blood Jesus shed for us. I actually need Jesus; I need his grace. He is in charge of whatever wave has crashed over me and he is the one able to pull me up and give me breath. His deep love calling to my deep pain.
In fact, even as I write this, I feel so low and uncertain about the future that I doubt these very words of faith and comfort. May He prove true.