Psalm 119 – Heth: A Reflection or a Longing?

The Lord is my portion; 
    I promise to keep your words. 
I entreat your favor with all my heart; 
    be gracious to me according to your promise. 
When I think on my ways, 
    I turn my feet to your testimonies; 
I hasten and do not delay 
    to keep your commandments. 
Though the cords of the wicked ensnare me, 
    I do not forget your law. 
At midnight I rise to praise you, 
    because of your righteous rules. 
I am a companion of all who fear you, 
    of those who keep your precepts. 
The earth, O Lord, is full of your steadfast love; 
    teach me your statutes! 

I know these words the psalmist wrote are reflective of how we are supposed to feel as followers of God, but there are times I read scripture and see the high standard it sets and I become depressed. I think if I had been entrusted with writing this section of the psalms, it might have come out a bit more like the following:

Lord, I want you to be my portion,
     but sometimes you aren’t;
I really want to keep your words,
     but I fail more often than I succeed.
I entreat your favor with all my heart,
     or as much of my heart as I can muster at the time;
Please be gracious to me according to your promise,
     but I understand I don’t deserve it. 
When I think on my ways, my very sinful ways,
     I want to turn my feet to your testimonies
     but you know I usually keep my feet on my sinful path;
I want to hasten and not delay 
     to keep your commandments...
     but you know I do delay, and quite frequently at that. 
Though the cords of the wicked ensnare me -
     often the cords of my own making -
I do not forget your law and how I have broken it
     and failed you.
At midnight, and often all through the night,
     I remember my sin, 
     even though your righteous rules
     are always in front of me. 
I really want to be a companion of those who fear you, 
     of those who keep your precepts,
     but I often feel more comfortable
     with those who boldly sin. 
The earth, O Lord, is full of your steadfast love,
     let me just see it once, that might be enough; 
     teach me your statutes,
     because you know...
     I’ve made a pretty big mess of life so far!

These may be horrible things to say, but sometimes my heart just isn’t in it. Sometimes I want to do the right things and lean on God, but I’m just not always able to. Even as I write these words I think about how spiritual failure, even in the short run, has always been sold to me as an indication of a lack of salvation. “If you were truly saved,” some would say, “you would always long to be with God and long to follow his ways. You would always be pulled close to him by the power of his irresistible grace.”

This is something I’ve always wondered about. Is God’s irresistible grace like a black hole, holding everything in its invisible arms, allowing none to escape? If that is the case, why do I feel as though I am the lone electron escaping the infinite pull of grace’s gravity? And even more so, why wouldn’t he reach his arms across the universe and wrap us all in his gravity?

Maybe grace’s pull is more like Narcissus’ view when he stared at himself in the pond. Maybe once we behold his grace we can’t look away, we can’t walk away, we can’t desire anything else. Maybe that’s more like it. Maybe we are not held to his grace by God’s force, but by the power of his beauty’s attraction. Maybe we were designed to see his grace as the most beautiful of all and when we finally encounter it we are unable to do anything but continue to gaze at its great beauty. But, I wonder…does this mean since I am prone to write the words of the second rendering of the psalm that my orbit has yet to cycle into the powerful pull of grace’s gravity? Have my eyes not yet beheld its beauty?

As I look back on the psalmist’s words, maybe he said he entreats God’s favor because he knew he had yet to be held by God’s beauty. Maybe he, like me, had seen enough false beauty in his life that he realized true beauty must exist somewhere. Maybe he longed for it with his whole heart, even while he continued to look at life’s many counterfeits. Is it possible the psalmist wanted God to be gracious to him because he knew he couldn’t do any of this on his own? If so, then the psalmist’s words are not reflective of how he was living, rather they state how he longed to be living but just couldn’t. For my part, the latter interpretation seems more helpful.