Psalm 137:1-4
Hanging Up Our Harps

By the rivers of Babylon--
        there we sat down and there we wept
        when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
        we hung up our harps.
For there our captors
        asked us for songs,
    and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,
        "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How could we sing the LORD's song
        in a foreign land?

New Revised Standard Version

And again we have a major hurricane threatening Florida. Hurricane Charley crossed over central Florida on August 13. Hurricane Frances crawled across central Florida on September 4 and 5. Forecasts have Hurricane Ivan threatening central Florida on September 13, and Ivan is the most powerful storm of the 2004 hurricane season, so far.

My church suffered roof damage with Charley. The temporary repairs didn't hold well under the battering from Frances, and we had much more interior water damage, losing ceiling tiles in many places and finding standing water in the choir room. We could lose so much more inside if Ivan hits us.

I've lost count of the number of friends and neighbors with roof damage. Some friends have lost their roofing down to bare plywood. They are learning "hands on" to be their own roofer, since they will likely wait months before professionals will be available to put up a new roof.

Stetson University hasn't reopened yet after Frances. The public school systems are struggling to cope with widespread damage. Direct hurricane strikes in Punta Gorda and Palm Bay have been joined by severe tornado strikes in Deland as watchwords of the damage, but every neighborhood in central Florida can point to startling evidence of twisters. The immediate economic impact to Florida has been huge, since the Labor Day weekend was literally blown away, and the longer term impact to tourism is frightful.

The Chancel Choir on Sunday will be singing a song titled "Sing to the Lord with Joy." The song goes well with the message, and the choir will do an excellent job with it, but I regret now that I picked that song for this week. I don't feel like singing with joy. I feel like hanging up my harp on a willow tree and sitting in silence instead. I'm too tired to question why we're threatened by another hurricane, and I hurt too much for all the damage it is already causing in the Caribbean. I am shocked by the conditions so many people are already enduring, and I ache for all those who keep bravely downplaying their situation, saying, "we didn't get all that much damage," and "it could have been worse."

I resonate with Psalm 137 rather well right now, and I thank God this psalm is in our scriptures. It reminds me God is deeply interested in listening to me express my concerns and sorrows, not demanding that I sing praises with a joy I have misplaced. It seems odd that, in times like this, the most sincere praise I can offer my Maker is to express my frustrations and fears. That's what the Israelite poet in exile to Babylon did in this passage, and that's about the best I can do today.

God has always been faithful to me in my life, and I know that God's love will be with me no matter what Ivan does to my house, my friends, my church, my job, my community, and my state. I know that God has brought me miracles of irrational joy in past desperate times, and maybe God will do that again for me as we watch the weather forecasts and brace for what might be.

But even now, I have the miracle of the King of the Universe, taking off and setting aside the crown and robe of that exalted position, stepping down off the throne and dais, and walking out of the heavenly palace to come sit beside me. He places His arm around us at times like this, and asks us how we're feeling, not for any other reason but that He wants to know.

Hold me, Lord. Reassure me that it's okay to feel weak and scared, exhausted from the stresses, angry for all the hurting around me, and numb from the cascade of warnings and problems. You always promise to love me, just as I am.