Don’t turn a deaf ear when I call you, God. If all I get from you is deafening silence, I’d be better off in the Black Hole. I’m letting you know what I need, calling out for help and lifting my arms toward your inner sanctum. — Psalm 28:1-2 (MSG)

In looking at what the psalmist, David, writes, we can sense (and perhaps personally relate to) what he’s feeling: fear, desperation, longing, and loneliness. He seems to be worried that God may not hear him or notice him. He says, to God — in personal pronouns — I’d be better off in the “black hole” (literally: “the grave” or “realm of the dead”). In effect, to be ignored by God is worse than death itself. So, he calls out seeking God’s attention.

The imagery in the second verse is one of lifted hands. It is the imagery of little kids longing to be held by their parents. It is some of the clearest speech that kids have with their parents. It requires no words, no clarification. There has never been a parent confused by the meaning of a child who stands at their own feet with raised hands. It means “pick me up”. It means “hold me”. It means “make it (whatever “it” is) better. It says: “I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE. I NEED YOU.”

This Sunday as we seek God for help in healing our relational, personal, and physical wounds, we’ll say that very same thing. We’ll hold out our hands and we’ll, perhaps fearfully, extend them to God saying:

“I really, really need you. I’m scared. Whatever happens, just don’t ignore me.”

As we look back over the past eight weeks of the relationship series Beautiful Mess we’ve found an undeniable trend: people are longing for restoration, longing to rediscover hope, and longing to see God make beauty out of the messy wounds of their present and their past.

Truthfully, we don’t always understand how God works in healing. This Sunday won’t be a sideshow act. There will be no magic tricks. It will simply be a group of people — God’s “dearly loved children” — asking to be held by our father, longing for his power to work in and through us. Bring anyone who is “weary and heavy-laden” and in need of new hope and new life.

I can’t wait to see you Sunday,

Jeff