Make your own title up, punk.

I read Eugene Peterson's interpretation of Psalm 42 this evening after a really trying day. At one point I was a ticking time bomb towards my Dad; God's grace intervened and my Dad defused it. That has almost never happened that way before. There is a lot in this Psalm, and the one before (that is 41 by the way) is awesome too, but 42 was so beautiful and helpful that I'm going to present some of it here.

"A white-tailed deer drinks from the creek'
I want to drink God,
deep draughts of God.
I'm thirsty for God-alive.
I wonder, "Will I ever make it--
arrive and drink in God's presence?....

"These are the things I go over and over,
emptying out the pockets of my life.
I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd,
right out in front,
Leading them all,
eager to arrive and worship,
Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving--
celebrating all of us, God's feast!

"Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God--
I'll soon be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He's my God.

"When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse
everything I know of you.
From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,
including Mount Mizar.
Chaos calls to chaos,
to the tune of whitewater rapids.
Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers
crash and crush me.
Then God promises to love me all day,
sing songs all through the night.
My life is God's prayer..."

You know what? After reading that, I don't feel blue, I feel STOKED! STOKED! But don't go thinking I'm getting all spiritual, I'm still cranky about this bloody headache. Geez.