​66. Our Embittered Hearts

My favorite psalm is Psalm 73 which should tell you how petty I am.

Here we have a man, Asaph, who seems to understand the bitter web woven inside my soul.

He knows what it is to look over at the well-coiffed and well-off members of society who wouldn’t know God if he smacked them in the face but still seem to thrive anyway.

To quote Stephanie from Full House, “How rude!”

I’ve lived with this sin for so long I’ve forgotten the moment I peeled my skin back to plant it. I think it goes hand-in-hand with my natural capacity for competition.

I will do my best, and you will weep when I win.

But then I never did win. I gave up that kind of life, the one where you’re killing yourself but still smiling in all those online photos. The one where you’re knee-ing and elbowing your way to a top that just doesn’t exist.

The one where your only goal is to one up that person who still haunts your reality.

I suppose I just got tired of arguing with ghosts.

The latter part of Psalm 73 is my favorite. It’s Asaph’s realization of what is in store for people like that, what could have been in store for him if he kept swallowing the bitter drink of jealousy.

It’s inevitable, death. And this time is short, man. I think it better to hold onto every moment and count it thoroughly, rationing it out for the good of Christ’s kingdom than for the ghosts that feed off our embittered hearts.