Category: Salvation History Psalms

Last time I posted, I said that there was only one type of Psalm that I hadn’t written an example psalm for. I was wrong. I also was missing an example for Salvation History Psalms.

I don’t want to simply use the example I wrote for my book – because the whole point of the book is that people can take the patterns of these types and write their own psalms. So certainly I can write another example.

As always, the point is not to make my words sound beautiful. The point is to show you something that anyone can try, another approach to prayer that might be helpful at some time in your life.

The Psalms in the Bible that I’ve called Salvation History Psalms (and this category I got from my Biola professor, Dr. Edward Curtis, so these are mostly from his list) are: Psalms 44, 68, 77, 78, 81, 87, 89, 99, 105, 106, 114, 122, 126, 129, 135, and 136. Basically, I included Psalms in this category if they referred back to the people’s history with God, usually involving the nation of Israel.

The key concepts I found in these Psalms are:
• Remember
• Stories of Help
• Faithlessness and Faithfulness
• Entreaty
• Praise

But essentially, in the salvation history psalms we write for ourselves, the idea is to think back over how God has worked in your life or in your group’s life. We could also write one to pray for our country, talking about history that happened before we were even born.

But today I was thinking about hiking.

I am taking a short mini-retreat in the hills of West Virginia, and today I was hiking in the Autumn forest. This is a lull before I’m facing a possible big bend in the road of life. Or the path of life. For nine years I’ve lived alone, but now my oldest – the one I prayed a blessing over last time – may be moving in with me, as the apartment she found didn’t end up working out. Now she’s staying with her dad, three hours away from me, and that may very well work out long term, but at least I am facing the possibility of some big life changes, and need to pray through my worries about that.

So – I was looking for a topic for a Salvation History example psalm, and I decided that thinking about hiking fit the bill. Let’s see where that leads me.

A Hiking History Psalm

Father, the first hikes I went on as a kid
were with my earthly father.
We’d stop on the long drive to Oregon to visit Grandma and Grandpa
and go for a hike with Daddy!
I remember an amazing hike through the Redwoods,
and another hike at Silver Creek Falls.
Hiking was something special and magical,
a time with my sister,
a time when you could share secrets
and enjoy an amazing lush world
so different from home in Los Angeles.

When I was a young adult,
I dreamed of living in a place
where I could go hiking right from my own doorstep.
I was thinking a far-off dream for retirement,
so was astonished when all four places we lived in Germany fit exactly that.

Later, as a single Mom, I dragged my kid to go hiking with me
when I could persuade him,
and shared special times in nature together.

But for nine years now, I’ve learned the delight
of hiking alone.
No one’s impatient at my picture-taking,
no one’s bothered by my pace,
I don’t have to worry about anyone else’s safety or enjoyment,
and I can commune with God and nature
and absorb the beauty and the peace.

Now there’s a bend in the path ahead,
and it’s going through bushes,
so I can’t see where it leads.

Two of my favorite hymns are about your leading, Lord.
I was singing “All the Way My Savior Leads Me” today:

All the way my Savior leads me,
cheers each winding path I tread,
gives me grace for every trial,
feeds me with the living bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
or my soul athirst may be,
gushing from the rock before me,
lo, a spring of joy I see.

And “He Leadeth Me”:

He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

He leadeth me; he leadeth me.
By his own hand he leadeth me.
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
for by his hand, he leadeth me.

And this week, my small group is looking
at the passage in the Lord’s Prayer:
“And lead us, not into temptation…”

I believe that you, Lord, give guidance;
I believe that you show us the way we should go.
You say in James:

If any of you lack wisdom,
let them ask God,
who gives to all generously
and without finding fault,
and it will be given to them.

And yes, Lord, you have led me,
over and over again in the past.
When I asked you for wisdom and guidance,
you always helped me through.
I do believe you won’t leave me alone now.

Lord, there are things I’m worried about for my daughter;
I want her to launch well.
But thank you that you promise
to give both of us wisdom
to show us the path.
Thank you for all the joys that will come with this change
and someone to hike with again.

On today’s path, they were not generous with the trail markers,
but every single time I wasn’t sure which way to go –
I’d look up and spot a trail marker,
making my path clear.

Make our steps clear, Loving Father.
Show us the way, Mother and Nurturer.

And thank you that you walk with us
on the paths of life.

Last week, I wrote about Salvation History Psalms.

Part of my point in analyzing different types of Psalms is to encourage people to try them out. Write a Psalm! It’s a great exercise in prayer.

So I wanted to do one myself.

Here’s what you do:

Make a list of times in your life when you saw God brought you through.
Then write about it! That’s the whole point — to go over your history with God.

To make it Psalm-like, I tried to use parallelism, tried to repeat myself and say things in more than one way. I began with an “Address to God” and finished with a “Call to Praise,” but otherwise it was a list of some highlights of ways God has worked in my life.

And such a blessing to go over those things! Because when remember what God has already done, it’s so much easier to trust that He will bring us through the current situation.

I’m going to offer my own Salvation History Psalm — as a way of encouraging you to try writing one yourself. Not because this is something special — but it is heartfelt.

Lord, you’ve been by my side since I was a child.
You placed me in a family where I heard about you.
I was trained at Christian schools;
I was encouraged to study and memorize your word.
I was praised for following rules,
and proud of how much I knew,
taught about things to do,
as if that’s how you please God.
“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.”
“Without love, I am nothing.”
I memorized the words,
but they weren’t yet in my heart.

We married young, and a baby came along so soon.
Motherhood was scary, but full of joy.
I wanted to do everything right
and my family to do everything right, too.
I did not succeed,
but You were with us.

I got teaching jobs when we moved,
a job lined up before I’d even found our phone,
(a landline in those days).
You opened doors and helped us pay bills,
make new friends, find a church.

With our second child, preterm contractions put me on bed rest.
My husband and our church family
made that time a blessing.
My oldest joined me in rest and play.
With the new baby, I kept teaching and working,
juggling child care and a happy growing family.

Then we started an adventure –
our family moved to Germany.
You promised your presence would go with us
and you poured blessings out upon us.
My first white Christmas
was that first Christmas in Leithöfe,
with treetops glistening
and snowy fields spread out before us.
We traveled to castles
and wondered at forested beauty.
We walked among the tulips of Holland
and looked out our own windows over fields of Rapps.
We climbed our own hill after dinner,
looked out over a panorama,
and smiled at the baby lambs.

When we suddenly had to move,
you brought us something even greater.
Your goodness seemed laid out with gifts and blessings.
A beautiful home in the hills,
with a view of the valley.
Then a job of my dreams,
dealing with books, seeing friends.
How did it all come crashing down?
Was my beautiful Christian marriage not what it seemed?

I’d told my beloved he probably shouldn’t walk in the woods
with the other woman.
Of course she’d find it romantic;
he’d be leading her on.
In fact, I’d like to walk in the woods with him.
It never entered my head he might want
to lead her on,
he might have chosen
a different path.

I tried to hold it together.
I tried to make things fit back into place.
I begged, I groveled, I cried.
Surely this was all a misunderstanding?

I read the remedies;
I tried seduction.
I tried to kidnap him
for a special date,
to rekindle romance,
to talk and connect.
I tried notes,
I tried emails,
I tried phone calls.
I tried everything I could possibly think of
to let him know he was loved.
Because surely if he knew how I loved him,
he wouldn’t turn away?

I still don’t understand how it happened.
I still don’t know when I lost his heart.
Before we even were engaged,
he told me, “I will never leave you.”
He’d promised to love and cherish me
for better, or for worse.
I don’t know why he decided those vows didn’t matter
and that I wasn’t worthy of love.
He told me he couldn’t forgive me.
He told me I was a terrible wife.
But the truth is that I was at least faithful.
And I at least gave my all to keep on loving him
even when all hope was lost.

You, Lord, were gentle with me
when my husband was harsh.
You sent my offenses away as far as the east is from the west
when my husband brought up words spoken eighteen years before.
“O Lord, if you kept a record of wrongs,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so we can, with reverence, serve you.”

My husband may not have forgiven my shortcomings,
but You did.
You showed me
that You had great things in store for me.

I wanted to stay near my husband,
but You let him run to the other side of the earth.
And once we had the world between us,
You poured out blessings on me.

You showed me I was Loved.
You told me I shone like a star.
You declared Yourself my husband for this season.
You sent me into the wilderness
and spoke tenderly to me.

And your people!
They moved me into a new home,
not once but thrice –
even with all my hoards of books,
they literally bore my burdens.

You gave me libraries!
A job, a profession, a calling!
First part-time, close by my home,
and then full-time, even closer.
I was in my forties and newly-minted with my degree,
yet I was welcomed in service to children.
I got to share the joys of books.

Disappointments came later:
Budget cuts sent me away from the library,
into exile for six months.
Twice I was rejected for the William Morris Seminar
and to be a Cybils judge.
I missed being elected to the Newbery committee by fifteen votes,
and I didn’t get the Selector job I’d wanted so much.
Nor did I get chosen for the position in Oregon near my kids.

But You were with me, Lord.
The disappointments always worked out for something better,
always, every time.
even the divorce, the biggest disappointment of all.

I got back to the library,
now working in a Regional branch,
I was well-positioned to promote.
I worked with new friends
and colleagues it was a delight to see each day.

I got to attend the William Morris Seminar
and be a Cybils judge,
all in good time.
Best of all was being elected to the Newbery committee
when my empty nest was fresh
and I could use my time to read.

As if that weren’t enough,
I won the Allie Beth Martin
a national award for knowledge of books
and distinguished ability to share that knowledge.
Who knew such an award existed?
And that I would receive the honorarium
exactly after home repairs put me in debt
for that exact amount?

Another disappointment happened when I was looking for a home –
my first offer fell through.
And then as soon as that was definite,
a condo came on the market
with an amazing lake view,
in my price range,
in driving distance of the library,
and just the right size for me and my books.
That place where I “spread my tent curtains wide”
blesses me to this day,
as I walk by my lake,
take pictures of birds and flowers and leaves,
and marvel in the beauty of the world the Lord has made.

Praise the Lord!
For every day He surrounds me with His beauty.
He turns my disappointments into dancing,
my setbacks into successes,
my crying into singing.

Praise the Lord!