For Crying Out Loud

1 Samuel 22

The Cave of Adullam, meaning a “sealed off place” rested in the crevice of a mountain and was the place where David fled to, looking for a sense of refuge.

It was but two days ago that I found myself doing the same thing. Except, instead of being 20 miles southwest of Jerusalem, I was 20 miles south of Santa Monica, on the cliffs of the rock formations that rest on the coast of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. A full moon and sprinkling of stars dotted the majestic sky as the white crested waves crashed below the rocks.

It was in the Cave of Adullam that David wrote Psalm 142. A prayer that came from an overwhelmed, conflicted, and desperate heart. Much of what mine is feeling today. And yet, though I wish I would have understood what this cave represented to David and the prayer that resulted from being in there while I was in my own Cave of Adullam, I find it no coincidence that I opened my Bible Study to this today. (God must know that it takes me a wee bit to process things and thought it best to spoon feed me).

“I cry aloud to the Lord; I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy. I pour out my complaint before him, before him I tell him my trouble. When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who know my way. ” (Psalm 142:1-3).

I don’t know what I love more - a) that David and I would have probably been decent pals being that we both seek out creation (aka, caves) to find refuge, or that b) he didn’t “speak” aloud to the Lord, he cried. He didn’t “shy” his voice to the Lord, but lifted it up. I imagine that means it got louder and louder and louder. He didn’t “drizzle” out his complaints, he poured them out as if dumping a pitcher of your grandma’s homemade southern tea. His spirit wasn’t just pained or comparable to a softly aching muscle, he was faint. Faint. About to pass out, fall over, done. Or lastly do I love more that c) despite the crying, yelling, voice lifting, pouring, and fainting, David still managed to say, “it is you who knows my way,” as if to affirm that despite the ish of what was happening in his life, David was still going to trust the Lord.

He continues in verse 5 to say, “I cry to you Lord, you are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living. Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need.”

And it was in reflecting on this passage that I spotted a sobering truth - I often believe God can save me from my sins, but not often enough believe that he can save me from my situation.
And all of this coming from a man who had killed a lion, a bear, and Goliath? He was overwhelmed? He was desperate, pained, and faint? And ultimately, it is this guy that is going to rise to the throne as the forerunner of Jesus, with a kingdom that would be known throughout the world, favored and anointed by the living God? What the huckleberry. And well, if God was going to have to bring David down to a lowly position before He could raise him up to stand on solid ground, then I suppose I’m not remotely excused from this either, am I?

(Insert sigh).

Is it awful that sometimes, even knowing how the story of David unfolds and seeing promises fulfilled,it somehow doesn’t negate the pain that accompanies the preparation, the hacking down that brings that tree to the ground, or in this case, me to my knees, to be small so that God can be big, to be low to be raised?

So, even though I feel caught in those white crested waves below the rocks, wrapped up in the undertow that feels stronger than even the God I’m choosing to trust in at times, I was physically positioned on the rocks above those waves just days ago. And this I will try and remember even if for now, it’s only my physical body that was seated on those rocks as I watched my heart trapped in the waves.