From Judge to Savior

Psalms 38:1, 4, 9, 15, 18, 21-22

Lord, do not punish me in Your anger
or discipline me in Your wrath...

Without a Savior, there is only judgment. My approach to my Maker can only be fear. I know what I am. I know what I've done. And I know that He sees and He must right every wrong. He will punish every wicked thought, every wicked desire. He must do so, for the sake of his name and the good of his children. Without a savior, without someone to make things right, he can only be to me a frowning Judge.

For my sins have flooded over my head;
they are a burden too heavy for me to bear...

The weight of guilt is inescapable. That feeling I get when I'm hiding something from a friend or family member. I've broken a prized possession of theirs, or forgotten to keep a promise I made. My tail goes between my legs. I know it's time to eat crow/humble pie/my words (pick your figure of speech). The burden of guilt can only be lifted through the painful pathway of exposure. The scalpel must come before healing.

Lord, my every desire is known to You;
my sighing is not hidden from You...

And why do I hide, when he already knows my deepest thoughts and desires? I don't trust that he knows best, that he can handle whatever I need to tell him. I must repent of the hiding before I can repent of what I am hiding.

I put my hope in You, Lord ;
You will answer, Lord my God...

The only alternative to hiding is to turn completely to face my Maker and start trusting that he can make good out of my foolishness. Hope implies that I believe he is good and trustworthy and he will respond in the best way possible, even if it might hurt my pride. I am Eustace the dragon, and it will take strong claws to tear away at the iron flesh I hide behind.

So I confess my guilt;
I am anxious because of my sin...

Simply speak and the scalpel can begin. There will be anxiety, no doubt. I have hurt others. I have hurt myself. I have hurt my Maker and grieved his holy heart. But with confession, the judge begins to become a savior. He can only give the mercy I need once the crime has been exposed. A lifeguard cannot rescue me while my arms are flailing around. I must rest in his arms completely.

Lord, do not abandon me;
my God, do not be far from me.
Hurry to help me,
Lord, my Savior.

And finally I am his. Seeking to be near the very one I was hiding from. I have turned 180 degrees. I even ask him to hurry, because by faith I am finally understanding the depth of good that he has planned even for a fool like me.

Hurry to help me Lord!
You are my only hope!