Greater than Our Hearts

I am like a little owl of the waste places. I am like a lonely bird on the housetop. I eat ashes like bread, because of your indignation and anger, O God; for you have thrown me aside. – Psalm 102:6-10 abridged (NRSV)   

I know that the angry God of this psalm is unwelcome to many. We want to reassure the psalmist: God didn’t do this to you. God doesn’t will suffering. God is close and suffering with you.  

But before anyone rushes to correct the psalmist’s theology and tell him who God really is or how God really operates, please listen to him. Just listen, feel his heartache, dwell deeply on the poignant images in which he casts his pain. 

That’s what I’m doing now. And as I dwell, I remember a time I suffered a depression so excruciating it could only be God afflicting me. And a time I sinned so grievously I expected God to discard me. And a time I was so lonely, so outside, I knew not even God wanted anything to do with me. 

When I needed to make sense of my suffering, God was the one I could safely blame, the one I could saddle with my grief and bewilderment. And God took it all without flinching, until I got better, until I got grounded, until the circle of love opened and let me in.  

If anyone had tried to correct the theology that worked for me in my suffering, bad and wrong as it might have been, I might still be adrift.  

Thank God that God is bigger than our theologies. God is greater than our hearts.  

Prayer
Patient One, you’re not to blame, but thank you for lending yourself to all our fumbling attempts to make sense of things. Thank you for being greater than our hearts.

About the Author
Mary Luti is a long time seminary educator and pastor, author of Teresa of Avila’s Way and numerous articles, and founding member of The Daughters of Abraham, a national network of interfaith women’s book groups.