I was thinking about Psalm 121 this morning. Something I find interesting about the Psalms is that they were often written in specific circumstances or for specific purposes, and yet, we in modern times still turn to them when our experiences are markedly different; few of us have hidden in a cave and pretended to be insane like David, after all. Psalm 121 is noted as a ‘song of ascents’, and although this is purely speculation, I always imagine it being sung by a group embarking on a vast journey over huge distances, in the steps of their forefathers, weighed down with animals and possessions, small and fretful children in arms, the sun beating down and the end nowhere in sight. Nowadays, certainly in the developed world, it is rare that we are forced to do arduous journeys for any aim other than travelling in its own right; people run marathons and do cross-country cycles, but there is no sense of journeying away from a physical threat, and knowing that the end of the journey signifies not only personal satisfaction, but also safety, which may have been missing before (although obviously, there is unfortunately still plenty of places where emigration for safety is still a frequent occurance). In Psalm 121, I imagine that the singers were looking down the trail, towards whatever oppression they were escaping, and then upwards, to both salvation and safety, and thinking how far away it seemed and how the distance just didn’t seem to shorten, how the sun was burning them, and the dust of the trail making it hard to breathe.
We often talk of life being ‘a journey’, and usually, this focusses on the uphill, difficult stints – not many people find themselves contemplating the ease of a downhill pace, where no effort is required to move forward. Similarly, in terms of depression, we talk of ‘slipping’ and ‘getting lower’, yet it’s unusual to have a few days where we think about climbing moods and soaring spirits – in all areas of life, the easy times pass by, unnoticed, yet the hard times tip us into contemplation.
I’ve been thinking about what the ‘top of my ascent’ really is, recently; whether it’s a point where I truly feel I have waved goodbye (or more likely, flipped the bird) to my depression for good, or whether it’s reaching a place where I am more able to manage it, and feel less consumed by it. At the moment, the peak I’m aiming for is when I have finished all the extra bits I’m having to do, and once again, only have the standard commitments of medical school to worry about, like everyone else; no more ongoing projects, no more extra meetings, no more counselling. My peak is one of normality.
This Psalm also reminds me what I should be focussing on too; when I’m looking ahead to the challenges I’m anticipating, it can seem so bleak at times, just one chance to fall, to fail, after another, and I wonder how I will ever manage to reach solid, high ground, when at times, my resources seem so low, and my heart so heavy. This song of ascents is pretty clear on this; my help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth. He created the literal mountains being climbed by the psalmist, he created the metaphorical mountains I am scaling. He knows the easiest routes and the paths to avoid. It’s a long way up, but God is guiding us over the rocks. It’s a long way up, but God is behind us, stopping us stumbling. I know that as I keep moving upwards, the vantage point on the last few months will keep changing and I will gain new perspective. I’m looking forward to reaching this next peak and being able to lay this year to rest, and move on, and lose the sense that I’m on borrowed time, and will always be playing catch-up. I’m looking forward to packing this year away, and forgetting about it’s power and pull for a little while.
In some ways, the path ahead of me is like one of those Magic Eye paintings; at first glance, all I see is the trouble, and the challenges, and the fear of falling. All I see is the pattern that went before, of gaining a little ground, and then, oh so quickly, losing it, and falling even further back. All I see is a future stretch of never-ending depression, of never-ending torment, and the possability of unchanging, unstoppable strife is more than I can bear.
But then, I remember a section from the Bible, or have a thoughtful conversation with someone, or see something that reminds me that the world isn’t quite as bleak as I sometimes think it is, and I am pushed to look from a different angle, to refocus, and I see that behind and amongst that bleakest of patterns, that highest of mountains, is God, clear as crystal, hard as iron, and I can’t believe I didn’t see Him there before. I can’t believe that all I needed to do, was take a step back, or forward, in order to see His footprint on the ground ahead and behind me. I can’t believe that He has been there all along, in plain sight, the focus of the painting, the thing we are trying to see. The pattern around Him means nothing. The superficial challenges, mean nothing; it’s all about the hidden layer of truth that we sometimes forget, or refuse to see. The pattern is just the top of the river reflecting the light; God is the undercurrent that guides it to the sea.
So, if you’re reading this, and feeling far from God keep an eye peeled (sorry) for those ‘Magic Eye mountains’, I hope you find one.
I’m back in counselling tomorrow – feeling quite anxious about it after last week and not entirely sure how to play it. This week, I also have a lot of bedside teaching from my head of year, whom is mentioned here; the only time he has met me hasn’t really been that encouraging, and I was in floods of tears at the time – not exactly conducive to convincing him that I’m a good student. It’s going to be an uphill week, so hopefully I’ll remember this Magic Eye thing myself.
Char, you are going to make me buy a bible to keep up with you. LOL. I haven’t read one in several years, so I am a little rustic around the edges… not to worry too much. I get what you are saying.
Yes, psalms were beautiful songs of infinite knowledge that transcends time as we know it. The ability to apply the teaching of the bible to our every day life, is one of the things I like about the bible.
Did I tell you my bday was on mother’s day? I am 49 yrs young. Only one year to go to the big 50, which is the new 40… 🙂
LS.
ha, there’s always the Bible Gateway option….interesting to compare different translations too. Hope you had a lovely birthday, remember you’re only as old as you feel! Get that red lipstick out 😉
I had a good time, Mother’s Day and Bday all roll into one. I got to get that red lipstick… :0)
Char, This is a wonderful post. Great advice for us and for yourself. It is so easy, especially when depression is a factor, to only see the negative and to believe it will last forever. But the truth is that God is in the midst of it all with you always.
This reminded me of a quote I saw the other day: “The pessimist says the cup is half empty. The optimist says the cup is half full. The child of God says my cup runneth over.”
Sometimes it’s hard to see the cup running over, but it is because it is filled to the brim with His love and salvation, which no one can ever take from you.
By the way, I’ve started a Tuesday theme on my blog called My Tuesday Three, and I would like to include a mention of one of your posts and a link back if you don’t mind. I’m thinking either this one or the last will fit with this week’s theme, but God has not quite solidified it in my mind yet. Let me know if that is okay with you. Peace, Linda
Linda, thank you as always for your wisdom, and I’d be more than happy (quite flattered, actually!) for you to link me in. love, char48
[…] persecution. It is an area I am all too familiar with, and so I can so relate to this post titled Magic Eye mountain by Char over at Learning to be Still. This is the trouble and persecution that comes from within […]
Char . . .I love your honest writing and ability to see Him in it all! 🙂 Praying for you this week, that there can be some downhill times here too. And that Psalm was one God gave to me during an extremely low point in my life. 🙂 It got better, looking to Him for help.
Thank you and God bless you!
Hi Debbie, thanks for your encouragement and prayers, I really appreciate it. Hope you’re having a lovely week, xxchar48