It is remarkable to note how the author speaks to himself in Psalm 42. He will not give in to his mo

It is remarkable to note how the author speaks to himself in Psalm 42. He will not give in to his moods. He takes himself in hand & reproaches himself for his depression. He recognizes that his soul is weighed down as by a crushing burden & inwardly disturbed like the raging of the sea. But why? he asks himself. Within his repeated self-questioning is an implied rebuke. Instead of answering his own questions, or excusing himself, he immediately prescribes his remedy: he must trust or “hope” in God. He must give up his introspection and self-pity….The cure for depression is neither to look in at our grief, nor back to our past, nor round at our problems, but away & up to the Living God.–John StottPsalm 42 / The MessageA white-tailed deer drinks from the creek;I want to drink God — deep draughts of God.I’m thirsty for God-alive.I wonder, “Will I ever make it—arrive & drink in God’s presence?”I’m on a diet of tears—tears for breakfast, tears for supper.All day long people knock at my door,Pestering, “Where is this God of yours?”These are the things I go over and over,emptying out the pockets of my life.I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd, right out in front,Leading them all, eager to arrive & worship,Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving—celebrating, all of us, God’s feast!Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?Why are you crying the blues?Fix my eyes on God—soon I’ll be praising again.He puts a smile on my face.He’s my God.When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearseeverything I know of you,From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,including Mount Mizar.Chaos calls to chaos, to the tune of whitewater rapids.Your breaking surf, your thundering breakerscrash & crush me.Then God promises to love me all day, sing songs all through the night!My life is God’s prayer.Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God,“Why did you let me down?Why am I walking around in tears,harassed by enemies?”They’re out for the kill, thesetormentors with their obscenities,Taunting day after day,“Where is this God of yours?”Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?Why are you crying the blues?Fix my eyes on God—soon I’ll be praising again.He puts a smile on my face.He’s my God. -- source link

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