Uncomfortable with Grace

I cannot read Psalm 22 without thinking of my friend Andie, whom I met when she was about seven years old. Andie grew up living her faith enthusiastically. She was funny, energetic, and mischievous—a joy to know. Just as Andie finished college, she developed cancer. After treatment she seemed well. But when the cancer returned a few years later, it became obvious that Andie would not win the battle. She died at age twenty-five. In her final months, Andie planned her memorial service. She insisted that Psalm 22 be read in its entirety, and it was.
The psalm moves from a familiar, opening cry of abandonment and despair to a closing hymn of sustained praise and faith in verses 23-31—a monumental journey. Verses 1-22 alternate between anguish and expressions of faith in God’s presence and steadfast care. This movement seems a normal part of the spiritual life. Times of hope, expectation, joy, and praise give way to disappointment, doubt, and sometimes the sense of solitary suffering reflected in the psalm’s opening. Even Mother Teresa experienced this sense of spiritual bereftness. After her death, the world learned from her journals of a years-long struggle with serious doubt, sometimes doubt about whether God even existed. But she never let doubt keep her from living a life of love and service.
Today’s verses affirm that ultimately faith wins. They encourage us to declare to others God’s saving deeds. That’s what Andie did. Beyond her pain and grief, through this psalm she reminded us that in the extremes of her life, she had found God to be enough. I don’t know the person who wrote this psalm, but I did know Andie—and I am grateful for her witness.