Wailing on the couch?

But God wants to heal us

Hosea 7:1, 14-16 [The Lord says] I want to heal my people. … But they do not cry out to me with sincere hearts. Instead, they sit on their couches and wail. … They look everywhere except to the Most High. They are as useless as a crooked bow.

Wow. I did not expect to be so impacted by the writing of an obscure prophet writing almost 2500 years ago.

These verses from Hosea 7 pack a punch, don’t they? I have done altogether too much wailing in the last year, doing nothing constructive. Not even taking my grief, concerns, and complaints to the Most High in exchange for his peace that is so much deeper and broader than circumstances.

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              Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.

              Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.

              Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand.

              His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6-7).

The objective of living “in Christ Jesus” is not to obtain personal comfort. It’s to love and serve God and other people. But experiencing his peace is a good starting point for being of some use in the world. Wailing on my couch accomplishes little.

Dave and I made a plan for survival through the challenging events we’re living through: I’m allowed to “vent” my frustrations and anger once a week, so I don’t explode, and the rest of the week we don’t talk about it. This forces me to cry out to the Most High and to examine my heart in light of his love and sovereignty. And it frees us to do the work God has called us to do, without giving other people’s words and choices undo power over our time and emotions.

The phrase “wailing on the couch” has become our shorthand for reminding me to take my concerns to God, and to do whatever I can do for other people, rather than indulging in my own feelings of distress about what they are suffering.

Lord, please straighten my useless “crooked bow.” Teach me to listen to you rather than to wail. Direct my actions. Anchor my heart in your faithful compassion.