How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?
When will this pain quit drowning her in the sea? She's fully aware that life is unkind. This is for sure, but why rub it in?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?
She takes a walk to clear her head. As soon as the tide has past, it washes to shore once again. Beating, beating, hard. Crying out to her, "You are not as loved as the others. You are alone." And as soon, as the tide has gone out to sea and the sun comes up, the light works for the dark and brings these bitter waves back again. Saying the same words. Saying them over and over again.
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
She thought she was strong. She thought she could pretend. She thought she could be different from all the rest. She thought she could overcome. But, alas, the uninvited one comes and stays long past time. There is nothing she can do to close this gloomy Inn. In fact, the guest announces, "I've made home under your roof for an indefinite stay."
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
There has to be something, anything, more than the brokeness of this guest. "Leave now, please, " she asks. "NOW!" she yells. She longs for the new. Though she is having trouble saying the words any more. For her head has been buried so long, she's beginning to believe the light was a lie. She might not recognize it when it appears. If it does.
But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.
She says, "I'm still alive. I'm putting one foot in front of the other. This must be something." And the light smiles.
I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.
There's of all sorts of good around her-- smiles of faces unknown, words of compassion from those seemingly far away in place and time, beautiful people yet to be, and there are distractions to keep her busy in the meantime. And, though she may not see it, there is a presence of concern right there.
Saying, "Keep walking, keep walking . . . be here in today."
