I first was introduced to Robbie Seay Band in February 2014, when I heard them in concert here in Dallas. Their Psalms EP's ended up getting me through 2014, and I'll always be grateful for this wordless interpretation of Psalm 42.
I have lamented my heart out to this song, and felt the hope flowing underneath, even as the last, unresolved chord fades.
It's that always thirsty/always flowing tension that Jesus talks about:
"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled." Matthew 5:6
If we don't have a space in our lives that needs to be filled? If we're so full of ourselves that we're never thirsty for more?
We can never be filled with the river of life.
We'll just be full of the river of ourselves.
The paradoxical truth about thirst is: it's a gift.
It's a painful gift, uncomfortable.
But it pushes us beyond ourselves. It needs more.
And there is more.
A MORE that flows and heals and satisfies beyond our imagination.
Our thirst is the thing that keeps us never-satisfied with less.
And so, for the painful thirst that pushes me beyond my own little stagnant, stinky pool, and out into the Great River, I am grateful.
Psalm 42
As the deer longs for streams of water,
so I long for you, O God.
I thirst for God, the living God.
When can I go and stand before him?
Day and night I have only tears for food,
while my enemies continually taunt me, saying,
“Where is this God of yours?”
My heart is breaking
as I remember how it used to be:
I walked among the crowds of worshipers,
leading a great procession to the house of God,
singing for joy and giving thanks
amid the sound of a great celebration!
Why am I discouraged?
Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again—
my Savior and my God!
Now I am deeply discouraged,
but I will remember you—
even from distant Mount Hermon, the source of the Jordan,
from the land of Mount Mizar.
I hear the tumult of the raging seas
as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.
But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me,
and through each night I sing his songs,
praying to God who gives me life.
“O God my rock,” I cry,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I wander around in grief,
oppressed by my enemies?”
Their taunts break my bones.
They scoff, “Where is this God of yours?”
Why am I discouraged?
Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again—
my Savior and my God!