Today, the 142nd Psalm speaks to my heart.
The Psalmist, a struggler with faith, cries out to God, his refuge, from a low point in life. He seeks God's help.
Aren't there times when we share that low place with the psalmist?
We're brought low by the death of a loved one, by an illness or injury that persists despite treatment and prayer, by a disappointment that eats at the edges of our consciousness.
The psalmist looks up from his low place and sees God, His hand outstretched to him. God grasps him and lifts him from the pit to his loving presence, where the psalmist is comforted, strengthened, fortified with renewed hope.
My God, my refuge, lift me up from this low place to your presence where I may be still and know that you are God.