Deep Calls to Deep
Scripture
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.
My soul is cast down within me;
therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep
at the thunder of your cataracts;
all your waves and your billows
have gone over me.
By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.– Psalm 42:5-8, NRSV
Reflection
When your heart is open and your energy is relaxed, you’d be surprised at the way God’s spirit will find its way into your conversations with others.
My dog recently had back surgery and I was taking him to his first physical therapy session the other day when a casual conversation with the therapist led us into some beautiful and unexpected territory.
To my estimate, the therapist was about my parents’ age, an energetic and lively woman who I could tell right away was a hands-on person. (I imagine this is a common trait among physical therapists.) She was massaging my dog’s frail hind legs and showing me how to do so to stimulate circulation.
She complimented me for how quickly I mimicked her motions and energy, saying, “You should work with animals too! What do you do, by the way?”
“I love animals, but I work with teens,” I answered her. “I’m a youth pastor at a church in Decatur.”
The woman was puzzled by this, saying, “So . . . what does that entail?”
I’ve gotten this response from people, especially those who did not grow up in a protestant church. I enjoy the challenge of explaining what I do to people who are unfamiliar with the church.
“Well, I like to teach teens to think more deeply and more spiritually, and to look for God in the world around them.” I answered, “It’s a good job because teenagers are very good at questioning the world and thinking critically.”
She nodded and agreed with me, and then turned the conversation in a more personal direction. “This pandemic has been a very spiritual experience for me, as I have noticed what life has become without the ability to touch others.”
I asked her what she meant by that.
“Well as you could probably guess, I am a hugger.” She said. (I could’ve guessed, yes.)
She continued: “And, looking at friends on a computer screen, it occurred to me, that maybe this is what death is like: being present but without the ability to touch anything. Without the ability to use my body. I’ve been thinking about this.”
It was a somber moment, but I affirmed her thought process and how important our embodied presence was with each other. In a world where digital interaction is just about the only form of interaction we get anymore, let us not take for granted the beauty of physical, face to face interaction.
These are turbulent times, and turbulent times have a tendency to stir up turbulence in our hearts and minds. As the Psalmist writes, ‘deep calls out to deep.” This can be a beautiful and good thing if we allow this turbulence to draw us closer to God as we question, dig, and search for meaning. God tells us to knock, and the door will be opened to us. Seek, and we will find.
Today as you face the storms of the week, the season, the year, may you draw nearer to God and find hope in the midst of the turbulence.
Submitted By:
Kelsey Vincent, Pastor for Youth and Families, First Baptist Church of Decatur