Dancing in the Rain

 December 30, 2020

“In my prosperity I said, “I shall never be moved.” By your favor. You have made my mountain strong. You hid your face and I was troubled.” —Psalm 30:6-7

When Linda and I were first married, we lived in a little community nestled in the hills of Allegany County, NYS. Our home was literally a stone’s throw from the Pennsylvania border. A couple dozen houses, a general store, single bay fire station, and the little church I served pretty well summed up the community. It was an idyllic place to begin married life, and naive as I was, I preached confidently about the peace of God that comes with knowing Christ as Savior and Lord. 

After five and a half years, we moved to Chicago, and my preaching was never the same. Living on the Northwest side, midway between Humboldt Park and Cicero (the one being notorious for race-related riots and other assorted violent crimes and the other’s notoriety stemming from being Al Capone’s base in the 1930’s), I would never again speak so easily about the peace of God that passes understanding. Notice I didn’t say I would never speak of it, only that I would never speak of it easily. Living where we did, I learned that much of what I had thought was the peace of God was merely the product of a peaceful countryside.

The 30th Psalm echoes this sentiment. How often when things are going well, have I felt “I shall not be moved?” I was confident, self-assured, until God hid his face. It’s not hard to stand firm and stolid when things are going well, but when God hides his face and life plunges into the abyss, it’s an entirely different story. And make no mistake—sooner or later, life will dump you unceremoniously into the abyss. 

For many, this past year has been like that. Last January, life was good; we thought to ourselves, “I shall never be moved.” Our faith was strong, our church was filled, we were on the move! Our mountain was strong, at least through February. But when the two weeks to flatten the curve turned into two, then three, and now ten months, with little end in sight, God hid his face...and we were troubled. Many of us still are. Turns out, our strong mountain is more like a molehill made of sand.

The Psalm continues with David crying out to God who “turned [his] mourning into dancing,” even when he continues to hide his face. We don’t have to wait till prosperity once more shines upon us. If we keep our focus upon the Lord, the winds of prosperity and adversity have no ability to move us one way or another. We can dance, even in the rain.