A Meditation on Psalm 84

There’s a storm brewing.

Vaccine, no vaccine. Mask, no mask. Go out, stay home. Shortages, gas prices, layoffs. Afghanistan. Middle-age, aches and pains, aging parents. On and on it goes. The continual barrage of issues is a literal assault on my mind.

My thoughts can take me to dark places. My imagination conjures up a bleak future while the pessimistic me wonders what calamity is next.

The storm that’s brewing is inside me. As the clouds gather and churn, I seek solace and eventually land in Psalm 84. A psalm sung while traveling to Jerusalem to celebrate one of the pilgrimage festivals, perhaps Sukkot. Travelers desperately longing to be in the presence of God.

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty.”

My heart longs, even faints, for the comfort of God’s presence. Thing is, I carry it inside me. Why do I so often need to be reminded of that?

I too am a traveler on a path that takes me into the valley of weeping. Through the dry place between the spring and autumn rains I journey. Even there his presence is with me. Many times I don’t see him or feel him, but he is there all the same.

“I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.”

He has knocked on the door of my heart, and I have opened it. Together we sit at the table feasting on bread and wine.

Where God dwells there is peace. He is in the boat with me as I face the storm.

Where God dwells there is no darkness, only light. A light no darkness can overcome.

Where God dwells there is strength to carry me. In my lowest times, he abides with me and together we climb the hill to see the sunrise of another day.

“Blessed are they that dwell in your house. They are ever praising you.”

God dwells within me.

Selah.