While I kept silence, my body wasted away... For day and night your hand was heavy on me... Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not hide my iniquity...and you forgave the guilt of my sin...You are a hiding place for me...you surround me with glad cries of deliverance.
Psalm 32: 3 - 7
It defies reason that a person would keep silent when in desperate need. Especially in life or death situations. Yet, I remember a particular accident where a student drowned in the middle of a swimming class. Friends swam nearby. An instructor stood on watch. There was no indication of neglect. Still, the student drowned and no one saw it.
Shortly after the accident, I spoke with a YMCA executive who had years of experience teaching swimming. He said, “Most people don’t understand, drowning is a silent event.” We tend to think of the movie version of drownings. On the big screen, people scream and flail their arms. When, in fact, fear paralyzes the swimmer and they just disappear without a sound into the water. It is a scary thought, especially for lifeguards.
It is hard for us to think that someone would not ask us for help. It hurts us deeply when a person close to us remains silent. But, how often, when burdened with a problem, do we ourselves actually call out for help? We don’t want to be seen as weak, vulnerable or a failure. So we remain in our silence and allow our bodies to waste away as the psalmist says in Psalm 32.
Emotional burdens are some of the most oppressive baggage to carry around. They not only effect our minds, they literally can destroy our bodies. The mind and body then work over the soul leaving us paralyzed. Still, too often, we would rather drown in the baggage of our failures then call out for help.
As I was reading this psalm, it reminded me that my wife had asked me to talk to someone last year. She was concerned that the burdens I was carrying around were harming me. At first, I wasn’t sure who I wanted to help me. Then pushing aside the problem became a comfortable way of life. Yet, while I kept silence my body, mind and spirit were wasting away.
Ultimately, I discovered the one I most needed to talk to was God. All other voices came off as Job’s friends trying to rationalize a predicament. So I poured out all of my silent thoughts in prayer. I opened my heart for God to see what was inside. Silly exercise, since God was looking into my heart all along. But looking in is not the same as being invited in.
All of these thoughts were with me as I walked down a quiet trail in northern Wisconsin this week. The leaves had fallen from the trees. The few that remained were dead, brittle and barely holding on. The barren trees exposed the intimate details of the forest. It hit me, once again, even the forest understands that the old life needs to die for new life to take hold.
The psalmist is speaking to me. Freedom comes from calling out and laying bear our inner soul. It is a dangerous activity. We don’t like revealing our inner self. But in our weakness, God gives us strength. My iniquities, your iniquities, do not bring judgement, but forgiveness and new life. No wonder the psalmist hears glad cries of deliverance. I know I did.
