Psalm 5

Out of the 11 Psalms from which we had to choose to study, I chose the first one: Psalm 5. Don’t know why . . . no particular reason. Just did.
I relate to the Psalmest. I start in the morning with the right intent for the day, with a sincere prayer before I start into ad deadlines and mailing lists. Many times, I can even steal the prayer away from my selfish desires, as well as the requests for protection from obstacles, the energy to work with fervor, and the discipline to complete my tasks in order of need (instead of ease).
In the reference text underneath my passage, I found it interesting that the morning prayer could also be translated the morning sacrifice. I don’t do that enough: sacrifice. Most mornings I don’t offer the day to God. I offer him to create his best of my to-do lists and the willingness to mount a Christian feel onto everything I do. Sacrifice is a hard word, though. I’m scared God’s going to make me quit my job, sell my car, live with the homeless, and force feed me with organ and choir music. I don’t trust God to play nice.
But the Psalmest says that after he prays or offers his sacrifice, that he eagerly watches—assumedly to see what God will do. I need to get there. I need to see God’s good side. If rain falls on the just and unjust, if trials are how God makes us more like him, what incentive over eternal destination and intent is there to welcome God’s sand paper? Unsaved people learn and adapt from hardships, too. I have enough character-building challenges in my family and work and health.
But I need to get to where this Psalmist is. I think it’s going to take something more than academic rewiring. We’ll see.
David talks for a while about his enemies, asking God for vindication from their schemes and validation of his righteousness. I don’t really have human enemies. Competitors in business, yes. Sibling rivalry, still some. My wife and I debate and argue, but we are not enemies. So, I look at this passage in light of spiritual warfare. Satan gets at me with media and inertia, uncaring and unreliable people. He works from the inside, playing mind games with me. He rubs me from the outside until I’m sore and jaded.
I pray for days of reprieve. Some days I find the boldness to request strength to overcome. Other days, I trade the hardships for the excuse to enjoy my sins.
So, I can relate with David. Many days I see through the unwitting people Satan uses and the track of his destructive attempts. Sometimes I can even pray for the irritants and weak around me—some of those times, even, without a selfish motive.
David’s last verses about rewarding the faithful—asking God to surround us with a shield of favor, with a shelter inducing joy and singing—strikes a chord with me. I ask so much of God already. I feel guilty to request beautiful things, gifts just for pleasure. I hope God intends in this Psalm to show that he approves of such, to somehow juxtapose this against the James warning not to ask to consume upon our lusts. I guess I’ll figure out that balance with more time in the Bible, more years investigating God.
Until then, I’m glad for the people and classes that, like tonight, require me to introspect. I can’t wrestle with these concepts unless aware of them. I cannot grow toward a truth without the lesson and path. Anxiety shrouds the mysterious path from ignorance; but at least, I guess, I’m walking.