I am just now realizing how much of life is the struggle between what we know to be true and what we feel. Freud called our emotions the Id, which he described as “a black cauldron of seething emotions.” And what a cauldron it is. I imagine, aided by Shakespeare, the witches of my evil heart standing over the Id and stirring it up with their lies, deceit, and malevolency, driving me to feel things that are not anywhere close to the truth. I imagine it this way because I find times when I can barely keep myself from acting on a state of emotions even though I know the reason for my actions is a lie concocted deep within my darkened heart. I am not blaming blind forces for my own sins, but more often than not my emotions take me places I know I don’t want to go.
For instance, I often feel as though God is not here. I feel the cold emptiness of space and draw Camus’ conclusion that the universe looks at us with benign indifference. I’ll even admit there are times when I feel as though Dawkins is right when he says the “universe neither knows nor cares, the universe just is and we dance to its music.” I admit I feel that way often, perhaps far too often, but, even though I feel this way, I know the reality is quite different.
Psalm 118 begins with the steadfast love of God. In fact, it is where we must always begin, where we must end, and how we must walk the line between the two. Even when we don’t feel his love, or if we have never felt it, we must know that it is real and that he loves us in a way we can’t possibly comprehend.
For my part, I know how to love a thing or a person, but usually only so long as they are nearby and/or only so long as they serve some sort of purpose. But, contrary to the old adage, absence does not always make the heart grow fonder, it often makes the heart grow colder. I have seen this, I can only assume you have as well. But God’s love is not, (thankfully) like our love. It is real, it is persistent, and it is quite possibly the only true thing that ever was, regardless of how I feel about it.
Even when I am in distress or when the world is set against me, I must trust in and take refuge in God’s steadfast love. For when I trust in anything else, usually my own power or the admiration and respect of others, I am constantly let down and I fail. I wonder, have you ever counted the number of times you fail because you don’t trust in God’s steadfast love? Well, I haven’t either, but I’m pretty sure it’s the cause of nearly every failure of mine.
Last year about this time I was going through a particularly tough time with regard to desires and choices and a friend wrote me a note which began with the words “You are loved.” He compelled me to say that to myself a number of times a day until I actually believed it. At the time, I thought he was saying there were people around that love me and as such, I should feel as though things will turn out for the best. But this was something I did not believe. Most of the time today even, I still don’t believe that.
But, now that I look back on the note I don’t think that’s what he meant to say at all. I think he was encouraging me to tell myself that God loves me no matter what happens. He was telling me how God’s love is unabated in the face of my sin, how it persists in the face of my doubts, and how it triumphs over my fears and anxieties, (of which I have more than my fair share).
I must be honest with you and say these are not easy words to write. It’s not because they aren’t true, but it’s because even as I write them I don’t feel that they are true. I’m not sure why this is to be perfectly honest. I believe I know them to be true, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it.
I had someone ask me recently, in light of a conversation centered on the content of the last paragraph, why I persist in writing about the Psalms every week. I had to think for a bit, but not too long before I said my answer was that there is no other option. I don’t have the power to stop death, and I don’t know of any object of my desire that does. I know of nothing in all of the created universe with the power to open up the gates of heaven and welcome me home after I leave this earth. Nothing and no one but God can do that. He can open the gates of righteousness so I can enter through them to give thanks to the Lord. He can do that, he will do that, in fact, he has already done that. He has taken the stone the builders rejected and built his church upon it. He has promised that someday the dwelling of God will be with men. And he has promised that I will see this reality with my own eyes. He has done all of this because his steadfast love is eternal and unchanging. I know this to be true, truly, I do. If only my feelings wouldn’t get in the way so often.
