I thought I was the “King of the Post-Mortem.” I am not. The Psalmist (Psalm 77) is:
You keep me from sleep
Troubled, I cannot speak.
I consider former days,
The years gone by;
All night, memories fill my heart,
I brood and question.
Will God always reject me?
Never again be pleased?
Has God stopped loving me
And cut me off forever?
Can God forget to pity,
Can anger block God’s mercy?
What is stunning about this psalm, however, is that what finally worries the king of worriers is not that his frailties are unforgiveable. What worries him is that if he isn’t forgiven, that might mean that God is not as good or as strong as he supposed. The very next line in his anguishing is:
It troubles me to think
The Almighty has grown weak.
But, no fear. The faithfulness of God is not in question. It is a matter of record:
I recall your awesome deeds,
Your wonders of old.
I reflect on all you have done,
On all your works.
After that realization, there is not another word from the King of Post-Mortems about his failings. He took refuge in God’s dependable grace. We can too.