Losing My Voice: How the Psalms Helped Me Find It

By Leslie Ann Jones

When I married nearly four years ago, I put my seminary career on hold when we moved from Texas to north Mississippi, 150 miles away from any hallowed halls of theological training. I hoped and prayed for God to move us back to Texas, where I could pick up where I left off. He had a year to make it work, because after that my scholarship would be awarded to another student. I begged. I pleaded. I waited.

My prayers seemed to ricochet off the ceiling and careen recklessly about before disappearing into thin air, and after nine months of waiting without an answer it became apparent that I would not return to Texas. My spirit shriveled within me. I felt alone and abandoned. I would finish my degree elsewhere, whether I liked it or not.

I transferred, and I didn’t like it. Every week, I logged 300 silent miles in my car as I drove back and forth between school and home. In my frustration and anger with God, I quit talking to Him—and I felt rotten about it—but after wasting so many words in prayers that went unanswered, I lacked the energy to come up with something else to say.

I didn’t want to thank God for the opportunity to finish school because it was not the school I wanted to attend. I didn’t want to praise God for keeping me safe on my weekly drives because I didn’t want to commute. I didn’t even want to give God credit for the spectacular sunrises I witnessed on my drives because I’m not a morning person.

I sat in classes learning about God, but I didn’t have the words to talk to Him, so I looked to the Bible and found the words to say. I’ll admit that my situation was laughable compared to the agony of Christ on the cross, but His cry of abandonment in Matthew 27:46 comforted me greatly, because I, too, felt abandoned.

When Jesus cried out from the cross, He used the words of Psalm 22. If Jesus used the words of Psalms when He felt abandoned, I figured it was worth a try. I began praying Psalms every morning and every evening, and over time the words began to transform and soften my heart. I found in Psalms a wider range of human emotion than I had ever imagined, and it allowed me to be honest with God and reverent of Him at the same time.

In Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls Psalms “the great school of prayer.” This book certainly schooled me, teaching me how to pray when I didn’t know how to pray for myself. Eventually, I retrieved my voice and began using my own words to talk to God, but the lessons of Psalms have stayed with me and still influence my prayers today.

First, Psalms taught me that it’s OK to honestly express my deepest emotions before God. As Richard J. Foster notes in Prayer, “The ancient singers really knew how to complain, and their words of anguish and frustration can guide our lips into the prayer we dare not pray alone.” With David, I asked, “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 13:1 NIV) Psalms gave me permission to tell God how I really felt, something that cleansed me and helped me heal.

Second, Psalms taught me to praise God in all situations. Right after David asked God if He’ll remain hidden forever, he finished by saying “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me” (Psalm 13:5–6 NIV). These verses forced me to look at God instead of myself, acknowledge His sovereignty, and praise Him for the goodness He had shown me. They lifted me up out of my current situation and showed me the big picture.

Third, Psalms reassured me that God’s character is not defined by temporary situations. Over and over again, the psalmists lamented truly desperate situations, but they always expressed trust in the unshakeable character of God. Although things were not the way I thought they should be, this didn’t change the fact that God is good.

Fourth, and finally, Psalms taught me to give thanks, no matter what. The Book of Psalms demands that we give thanks to God for no other reason than that “he is good; his love endures forever” (Psalm 107:1 NIV). I was shocked to learn that prayer is not about me and how I feel. It is about God and who He is. When I finally began praying with an eye toward God instead of firmly fixed on myself, my heart melted and the season of silence ended.

I couldn’t have imagined it then, but I came to love my new school, and I wouldn’t be where I am today if God hadn’t picked me up and moved me. I thought I knew what I needed, but I am so grateful that God didn’t listen to me and did things His way instead. Praying when you’re frustrated and angry isn’t easy, and it’s even more difficult to talk to God when you feel like He’s abandoned you. However, I learned that it’s worth it to stick it out and keep talking to Him.

Psalms taught me how to pray again, and has forever shaped the way I relate to God. Now, when I feel forsaken, I ask myself, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God” (Psalm 42:5 NIV).

Leslie Ann Jones graduated with an MDiv from Beeson Divinity School in December 2008, and she really misses the school that she didn’t want to attend. A freelance writer and soon-to-be mom, Leslie Ann blogs at leslieannjones.com.