Pit of Despair

Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, And thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall overwhelm me, And the light about me shall be night; Even the darkness hideth not from thee, But the night shineth as the day: The darkness and the light are both alike to thee. (Psalms 139:7-12)

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Over the past few years, I have enjoyed the music of Andrew Peterson, who is an artist after my own taste. (His "Behold the Lamb of God" album is listed on the right margin.) Below you will find a selection of a recent post to his blog that I found particularly rewarding. You can find his blog at The Rabbit Room .

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The Pit of Despair, or, A New Lament
By Andrew Peterson

The oldest song on my new album is also the title track.

I wrote it in Pennsylvania in 2008, after spending a few days at Lancaster Bible College, a fine establishment that flew me in to talk to the students about writing and to put on a concert with the Captains Courageous the next day. (Psst! Lancaster! I had a great time and would love to come back.)

So there I was in Lancaster, feeling as sorry for myself as I ever had, languishing in the hotel room alone, wishing Andy and Ben’s plane would hurry up and arrive. The road is, of all lonely places, one of the loneliest. There’s a certain thrill in the beginning of the trip. I love seeing the sights, exploring new towns, feeling for a while like an observer of life rather than a liver of one. Of course, that’s a dangerous place to be.

Soon the excitement fades, and before you know it every face you see is a reminder of the faces you left behind. Every house looks sad. You start paying attention to the weather in your hometown. My heart literally aches sometimes when I hear my children’s voices on the phone. Along with the homesickness, on this particular trip I was shadowboxing some old familiar demons. I’m susceptible to a particular set of lies, voices that ring in my ears, voices that would have me believe a thousand things of myself and my God other than the truth to which I cling. When my faith falters and I forget my God, when I forget that his undying love now stands guard against all condemnation, I hold myself in contempt. I can hardly look in the mirror because all I see is sin, sin, sin. All I see is a fool. I see a failure.
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Click here to read the rest of this post, including the lyrics to the resulting song.