A Man of Sorrows

A prayer of the afflicted when he is faint and before Yahweh pours out his complaint. Psalm 102:1 (in the Hebrew text)

Afflicted – Oh the history in this word! It knows no ethnic borders. Hagar, the Egyptian, is afflicted by Sarah. It knows no relational privilege. Leah was afflicted (not loved) by Jacob. It knows no bodily limits. Job was afflicted by boils. It knows no nationality. Israel was afflicted by Egypt. When David calls up onee, he brings the heartache of humanity with him.

A man afflicted knows only the cry from the pit within. This is no “Hallmark” word. You won’t find it on a sympathy card. This is agony, extreme oppression to the point of despair over life. Mental, physical or spiritual, this word brings the tormentor, riding on a dark horse.

A friend from another life crashes headfirst into the wall of affliction. His daughter dies on an icy road as she drives home from school. Onee, cries the Hebrew poet. The soul of a man dissected without anesthetic. Ashes to ashes. The breath of being whole scraped away from the living with death’s diamond grinding wheel.

Afflicted. A knife-edged word filleting my safety. Wounds below the plastic mask of civility that will not heal. Blood bloated soul sickness that whips me until at last I step beyond the edge of grace, hoping beyond hope that God will leash me in before I am numbed to my pain.

What is prayer now? Is it reasonable reflection? Or is it incomprehensible sorrow, bellowed, whimpered until at last there is nothing more but the prayer of silence.

We wait for you, Lord. We wait, suffocating in sulfurous insanity. Where else can we go? You have the words of life, Lord. You are our only hope, the man of onee who knows our grief.

Topical Index: prayer, afflicted, Psalm 102:1