Last night in church, we were singing a song about remember our Redeemer. The lyrics when like this:
"Christ Redeemer, we remember, He has won the war!"
It struck a chord in my heart. I've recently been studying Psalm 77, a powerful song of Asaph, in which the speaker cries out to God in the middle of the night, wondering where the relief is from the suffering being experienced.
At first glance, it almost seems as if the speaker is feeling abandoned by God. Or even worse, God is there, but the speaker refuses to be comforted by God.
The psalm is written post-kingdom collapse and exile. The Israelites have lost everything. Families separated. Families demolished. All familiarity gone. They are in a state of capital T Trauma. That's the state-of-mind the psalmist is writing from.
The first few verses are evident of a tired, weary soul, crying out to God but feeling no comfort or release from the circumstances.
But amidst the sleeplessness and crying out, the psalmist is choosing to do something really powerful.
He is remembering and considering the days of old, of the happier, more stable times.
His first conclusion seems to be the God of ancient days has changed somehow. How could the same God who brought them out of Egypt allow their exile?
But everything the psalmist knows about God says quite otherwise. He knows God is unchangeable. He knows the promises God gave to his ancestors. He knows the history.
In verse 11, the psalmist's remembering actually begins to bring JOY and PEACE back into his soul.
His thoughts are shifted off the hurt and on to the glory and power of a living God.
It's a movement from complaint to praise.
Please don't miss this.
The psalmist had to choose this change in his thinking. He needed a renewed perspective in the pit of despair. I actually believe God moved in his spirit during these prayers to help shift his perspective!
Remembrance is a beautiful gift we have the ability to use, isn't it? God has given us minds to literally store memories to look back on when we need comfort, healing, and encouragement.
I want to acknowledge that memories are not always joyful. Some are quite traumatic, as the psalmist here remembers and knows well. But there was a shift in his heart towards praising God for the good things, despite the traumatic things.
I've been doing a lot of "memory work" myself this year... going back into my past to heal some emotions attached to difficult memories. The act of remembering like this takes hard work, dedication, and a lot of showing up for myself and in my counselor's office. I don't do it alone; I am surrounded by a stable, healthy community to hold me up in this season of remembering and healing. (Praise!!)
The more I shift off the hurt and on to praise, I find the hand of the Lord in all of it. It's like my vision clears and I can see what I could not see before. He has always been my Shelter, my Provider, my Protector, my Counselor, and my Healer.
I guess what I want to leave you with today is a challenge for you to look for and remember the goodness, glory, and power of God in your life, even in the traumatic events.
God has not changed from the days when He led the Israelites through the sea and through the wilderness. The waters still see Him and move at His beck and call, and the deeps still tremble.
And more often than not, God's way is "in the sea" and His paths are "in the mighty waters." And in those deeps, sometimes it feels like He's not there, like His "footprints may not be known."
But rest assured, He was there then, He is here now, and He will be there for all that is to come.
This brings me great comfort in my distress, and courage for what I have not endured yet. Praise Him from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him. Praise Him. Praise Him!
May remembering your Redeemer bless you too, dear friend.
*I use the NASB if you'd like to read the psalm in the same translation for verses I've referenced.
