I long for a prayer life like the psalmist’s. I long for an abiding trust in God that allows me to be so frank. I want a boldness that permits me to be so direct. I desire an intimacy that leads to prayer that is more conversation than words in the wind.
Read aloud verses 4-6. I imagine an elderly person, one who has prayed and lived faithfully and volunteered and sacrificed. Suddenly this person faces persecution, severe trial, and aggressive enemies. And in old age, confident of God’s love, experienced in God’s ways, unafraid of frank conversation with God, she stands with hand on hip and finger wagging, “Hey! I’ve leaned on you from birth. You created me and know my limitations. Rescue me now. I praise you continually.”
The psalmist’s prayer is not a last-ditch effort, a phone-a-friend moment. The prayer evidences continued conversation based on a lifetime of joys and trials, successes and failures that she and God have lived together. Nor is the prayer a threat. The relationship, trust, and confidence in each other will not fail based on God’s response. The psalmist feels comfortable in her honesty with God.
And that’s what I long for in my prayer life: that each interaction with God, plea and prayer, step forward and misstep, will increase our mutual trust and confidence. I know that God will continually be my hope and that God will rejoice as I mature from the womb, through my youth to adulthood, and into an elderly age when we talk as friends.
Dear God, let all my words to you be honest and true. Open my ears to hear your responses, equally honest and true. Rescue me. And my praise will be continually of you. Amen.