I found myself laughing out loud this week when I saw that a friend posted on Facebook that January was just a month of Mondays. I so agree with her. The bitter cold weather, the new Covid variant, and the build up of troops at the Ukrainian border have it truly made it a month of Mondays.
Also this month, two men who were important mentors to me over the years, Jim Soderberg and Art Merrill, both died. Jim was the former director of Chum, our local shelter and food shelf. He and I would walk the trails near the church at times. Dr. Merrill had been my Old Testament Professor at United Theological Seminary back in 1983, my first year there. He expected excellence from us. He also taught us the importance of knowing who wrote our texts. My very first paper for him was on Psalm 13, a psalm of lament. The Psalm begins:
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I bear pain in my soul,
and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
In so many ways it was a perfect text to start my theological education with. My first year of seminary I was living at home as my father was dying from advanced lung cancer. The lament was real in our lives, especially his as he dealt with excruciating pain and the inability to breath at times.
But also during this time he was involved with Bible Study Fellowship and would often have me help him with the study guide questions. It became our quiet way of bonding over coffee and bible verses in the early morning. He never wanted to talk about his looming death but I think he had his answer like the psalmist did at the end of their lament.
But I trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.
Yes, God is with us even in this month of Mondays. There is beauty all around us. I was reminded of our road trip this fall to the Badlands. The land was so stark, harsh and incredible. It is similar in many ways to the land in which the psalmist wrote. For hundreds of years, the Lakota people have called this area mako sica, which literally translates to “bad lands.” Truly a spiritual place but with it’s jagged canyons and many buttes, it was, and is hard to navigate. The Badlands are a lot like life.
“How long O Lord?” “And I trust in your love.” We move forward one small step at a time, looking to those who have gone before and our fellow travelers. Thank you so much Dad, Jim and Art.
By the way I didn’t do so well on that first paper, but I’m still working on it through all my Mondays.
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