Out of the Depths

Teri called me last Sunday on her way to see her dad, Skip Nixon, to tell me her dad died before she could arrive. It was the pits; it was “the depths.” I couldn’t immediately join her because I was watching our four-year-old daughter. The rest of Sunday and Monday was a blur of childcare, VBS at the church, bathing and putting my daughter to bed. It was not until Monday night after she was in bed that I was able to be alone with my thoughts and feelings about Skip, my father-in-law. I went out on my porch to be alone with my grief, my thoughts, and my remembrance. Before long, a narrative was coming together in my head, and I was both laughing maniacally and weeping. I will miss Skip. A couple of days later the narrative took shape in Psalm 130 and gave me a format to both process and pray my grief and gladness.It was one of those serendipitous moments that, if you are listening and paying attention, God just sort of graces you with. Josh and I didn’t plan to be in the Psalms of Ascent months ago when the Soul Room readings were formatted. I didn’t plan to come to a juncture where both Sunday sermon and funeral homily were the same text. It was just a gift from a God who – though I am like the Psalmist here, often in the depths, and many times because of my own sin – nevertheless is very fond of me! It doesn’t always turn out this way, but when it does, you can only bow your head in wonder, love, and praise.So yes, I have lived, prayed, and been shaped “in the depths,” by the very text I preach. It is so good, so allow me to give you just a one-line trailer of the whole funeral homily for my father-in-law and the message for Sunday: Sin and suffering never have the last word. The Psalm starts with an individual alone and totally undone and ends in a communal dance of joy unspeakable, full of glory. Yes, that is the God we serve.Blessings,Jim