O LORD, the God of my salvation,

I have cried out by day and in the night before you.

Let my prayer come before You;

Incline Your ear to my cry!

—Psalm 88:1-2

One of the things about God I’ve fallen the most in love with over the past few years is His goodness and gentleness. Even when the Holy Spirit is working to show us where hidden sin is festering in our lives, He does so with the utmost kindness and gentleness. 

Most recently, God’s been talking to me about anxiety and worry. It’s a bit of a problem at the moment. For one thing, I’ve felt like my husband and I are approaching a time of change and transition, although we have no idea or clear guidance on what that will look like. Just sayin… that’s a little nerve-wracking. On top of that, the world we’re living in is just kinda crazy, so anxiety and worry have definitely been a part of life recently.

Over the past couple of weeks, God has gently and lovingly pointed out that living in that state of mind is neither healthy for me nor is it living up to His instructions to have a humble, faith-filled attitude toward Him. From YouTube videos that “just happened” to be the next one to pop up when I was too busy working on something to stop and pick a new video to my sweet husband reminding me “to give it to God” when my emotions become overwhelming, God has called me to surrender my anxiety to Him.

But what does that look like?

My anxiety is not a physical object I can hand to Him, and it often feels impossible to really control those anxious thoughts, especially when I’ve been struggling under the load so long that it feels like I have nothing left in the tank. 

So how do we surrender those anxious thoughts and feelings to God? The easy answer is to pray, but then there’s the expectation that once I pray, I should have let it go and shouldn’t let it bother me again, which feels like I’m setting myself up for failure because it will bother me again.

Enter Psalm 88. Of all the psalms of lament, it is one of two that do not end on a happy note. It was written by a man named Heman. He was one of the sons of Korah who were commissioned by King David to write songs for the temple. Later in his life, Heman also became known as a wise man who served under Solomon, so he led a life of prominence and success, at least to some extent. And he is the one who wrote one of the most anxiety-ridden and grief-filled psalms in the Bible. 

In this psalm, Heman claims to be close to death—even though if he went on to serve under King Solomon, he clearly didn’t for a while. He accuses God of ignoring him, turning his friends and family against him, and persecuting him. He says God has rejected him. He claims to have been about to die from the time he was a kid. He even gets sarcastic with the Creator (and reveals his own ignorance of what death is like) by asking God rhetorical questions about death before concluding the psalm with darkness.

I don’t know what Heman was going through when he wrote this psalm, but it must have been rough. I almost wish the Bible would have recorded a dialogue between Heman and God with those rhetorical questions. 

Heman: “Will You perform wonders for the dead?” 

God: “I’m pretty sure you’ll call Heaven a wonder.”

Heman: “Will the departed spirits rise and praise You?”

God: “A resurrection is coming, but they don’t have to wait. They’re praising me now.”

Heman: “Will Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave?”

God: “My children don’t stay in the grave.”

One of those YouTube videos that “randomly” popped up was a sermon preached by Tim Keller on this psalm. He brought up how strange it is that this psalm is even in the Bible. Doesn’t it seem like God would prefer not to have a psalm with such a gloomy ending in the middle of the Bible? 

It does seem a bit strange, but here was Keller’s point: the very fact that it was included offers us hope because quite frankly, Heman wouldn’t exactly be getting an A+ if this was his midterm in How to Pray class. He cast blame on God for his situation and was sarcastic, maybe even a bit rude, with God… but he prayed. 

There have genuinely been times in the past when I avoided bringing my worries to God because I didn’t know how to force those thoughts and anxious feelings to go away and not come back, but that misses the point. The point is not to superhuman our anxiety away on our own. The point is to come to our Abba. Even if we’re climbing into His lap with angry tears and harsh questions, we’re still climbing into His lap. We’re still choosing to trust Him with our pain and fear, and there is never a time when that will be the wrong move.

If something is worrying you this week, come join me in our Father’s lap, come talk to Him about what’s on your heart. He is eager to listen, and He’s there as often as you need Him.