Psalm 61: Assurance of God’s Protection

Hear my cry, O God;
    listen to my prayer.

From the end of the earth, I call to you,
    when my heart is faint.

Lead me to the rock
    that is higher than I,

for you are my refuge,
    a strong tower against the enemy.

Let me abide in your tent forever,
    find refuge under the shelter of your wings. 

For you, O God, have heard my vows;
    you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.

Prolong the life of the king;
    may his years endure to all generations!

May he be enthroned forever before God;
    appoint steadfast love and faithfulness to watch over him!

So, I will always sing praises to your name,
    as I fulfill my vows day after day. (Psalm 61)

As a general practice, I think it wise to refrain from parenting advice. What is considered ‘good parenting’ by one can be considered negligence or hyper-vigilance by another. I was raised in a time when parents sat on their porches smoking Marlboro Lights and not expecting their children to come home until the streetlights came on. Mothers microwaved hot dogs, threw them in a white bun with ketchup and called it ‘dinner’. No playdates were arranged. No locations were being tracked. As long as no one was bleeding, we were doing all right. 

Raising children today is different. Parents wring their hands over using non-organic apples in their homemade sauce. They are flooded with guilt at not offering their children enough unstructured play time while simultaneously fretting over whether or not they have them enrolled in enough college preparation enrichment activities in elementary school. They are theoretically aware of the ways smartphones are negatively affecting their children’s social-emotional development, and yet lack the tools and support to choose a different, more unplugged lifestyle. From birth to young adulthood, it’s a pressure cooker. Every day is the parenting Olympics, and we parents are rarely making the podium. 

Our psalmist today cries out to God from a place of deep overwhelm. Crying from the ends of the earth, in deep isolation, she tries to articulate her needs to God, but she isn’t really sure what they are…

Does she need a rock that is higher than she? Someone to take over decision-making, even if the question is as simplistic as: “What’s for dinner tonight, Mom?” 

Or does the psalmist need a strong tower, someone who has a better view of the future ahead. Insight into how all these tiny details amount to a life of joy and fulfillment. 

Or perhaps our psalmist needs a soft place to land, a tent, or shelter under another’s wing. Perhaps she needs permission to share all the anxieties and concerns she holds like a fifty-pound weight around her neck. Perhaps she needs a night when someone else can take watch over the potentially hidden enemy. 

While not advice, one idiom that has come into my parenting zeitgeist is this: we aren’t meant to prepare the path for our children; we are meant to prepare our children for the path. Yet, how best are we to prepare when each of our souls is so dynamic?

This psalm invites us to think of ourselves as both parent and child. Articulating our needs to God in all their involuntary, instinctual, improvised glory. Knowing God tailors our needs, responding to us like the wind in the sail of a boat. Steady, but spontaneous; reliable, while unpredictable. 

This psalm is the promise that God delights to give us, moment to moment, exactly what we need. Day after day, with steadfastness, God loves us as a perfect parent – whatever that looks like?!