There are days when everything seems to go wrong. When everything feels wrong.
More often than not, I’m one to say, “Praise the Lord,” and one to sing loud and strong in the midst of trouble. I’m one who tells others to trust God and that He is faithful. I’m one to tell myself these same things when I’m in the midst of a storm or when the day is dark.
And those are all responses that are right and good. Responses that the Holy Spirit has taught me and stirs in me.
Yet there are days. Days when I relate to the lament of the Israelites in Babylonian captivity. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land (Psalm 137:4)? Yes, how can I?
When I’ve been side-swiped, when the trial has gone on for so long that there seems no end, when hopelessness rears its ugly head, when I remember days gone by and wonder how I ended up here and will it ever get better?
There are days when I find myself in a foreign land.
And even there, I have only one place to turn. I have only one God. I have only one hope.
May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember You, if I do not exalt Jerusalem above my chief joy (Psalm 137:6 NASB).
Jerusalem, the hope of Israel. Jesus, my hope. His Spirit dwells in me and I dwell in Him.
He is my remembrance, the One to remember when I find myself in a foreign land.
May my tongue be loosed to praise Him. To proclaim His hope. And my mourning will turn to dancing (Psalm 30:11). And I will be freed from the foreign land.
On those days, when my song is stilled, may I remember my hope. May I remember Jesus. He fought for me and He still fights for me. He’s my intercessor (Hebrews 7:25). Never giving me up.
And I will sing again.
