Surrender to the Lord

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Psalm 22, v.1; Matthew 27, v 46: KJV

Abandonment. Hanging on the Cross of daily deeds, forsaken by actions of vanity and deceit, malice and evil intent. In such moments of utter loneliness, overwhelmed with the guilt of one’s chosen distance from God, the selfish creature cannot but cry out in despair, even accusing God of abandonment, which is self-derived. As I hang upon a tree, next to the Christ, what can I do but look upon His glory, and give all that is forlorn, lonely, sinful, anguished, painful within me, and nail them to the cross?

If I stir up a hornet’s nest, only to be stung repeatedly, to what avail are my cries of anger and accusation, when it is my own doing? My declaration that God does not listen, has forsaken me, is a fulfillment of my own belief, my own rash actions and declarations.

“I was cast upon thee from the womb” (Ps 22, v. 10), helpless, insecure, cold, hungry, crying, afraid: and You embraced me, even though I seemed but a weak and insignificant nothing, a thing that moments before was in the womb, hidden, unknown, seemingly unloved, forgotten; then I emerged and You caught me, for You had been with me all along, from the beginning, and had not forgotten, rather waited in expectation. You still wait in expectation.

Ever since that moment, that conception of being, joined to Being, affliction has been a companion, a consequence of time, of movement and change. I call upon You; You are already there, and have been, from the beginning, when I became incarnate.

I emerged with a flood of water, pouring out of the womb, my body weak, a little sack of bones and flesh, like wax to be molded. I had no strength. I hungered. I thirsted. I was surrounded, it seemed, by menacing creatures, who poked and prodded, stared and laughed, delighted in my helplessness. Such will I be in death: poured forth from life, weak, a sack of bones and flesh, laughed at, poked and prodded, helpless. And those around me will cast lots, wondering when I will go, where I will go, and what will fill my place.

When my life ebbs away, when it pours out into oblivion, be there Lord to embrace me, as You were at my birth. Catch the blood of my wounds dripping from the Cross, the sighs of my throat, the ache of my limbs, the fluttering of my heart, and as that part of me that is Yours flows from life, embrace it, hold it, let it endure with You.

Ye that fear the Lord, praise him (Ps 22, v. 23): Whenever, wherever, praise Him. In the assembly, in the courts, in the schools, in the workplace, at home, alone and with others, fear Him, praise Him. Sing songs to Him. Never forget Him.