A reflection on Psalm 66.

“Make a joyful noise to God, all the earth; sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise…” ~Psalm 66: 1-2, NRSV

This week, I felt a quiet tug. I sensed an invitation to return to reading the Bible. I’d been praying with apps like Hallow and Centering Prayer, but this felt different. I needed a different rhythm. Not an analysis. Not Bible study. I’ve done plenty of that as of late.

I just needed presence.

Less head, more heart.

My mind has been in overdrive lately. Honestly, it has been like that for most of this year. I suddenly craved something I can simply read, rather than dissect.

I thought of the wisdom texts.

Proverbs, hmm. Maybe.

Ecclesiastes, “all is vanity.” Um, no, thank you.

And then of course… the Psalms.

So, I reached for my NRSV Bible that was dusty from neglect and began reading the Psalms. I wasn’t far in as I was still in the territory of “Depart from me, all you workers of evil” (Psalm 6:8). I was in the midst of the rawness, the ache, and the honesty.

Then, coincidentally, a friend who volunteered to facilitate Centering Prayer this month shared Psalm 66 with us. I hadn’t reached it yet in my reading, but its tone was dramatically different.

Where Psalm 6 groans: “…heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror…”,

Psalm 66 sings: “Make a joyful noise to God, all the earth…”

It’s a psalm of praise and rejoicing, of remembering God’s faithfulness even through fire and water.

It felt like it was a glimpse of what’s ahead for me. A reminder that lament and joy are companions, rather than opposites, on the spiritual journey. One teaches us how to cry out to God; the other reminds us how to sing for joy.

Though we’ve been refined like silver, hemmed in by nets, and weighed down with burdens, the Divine still brings us out to a spacious place. (Paraphrased from Psalm 66:10-12.)

Our suffering is not the ending. It’s a thoroughfare. And joy, even here within the midst of our suffering, is a choice. Hope does not erase the pain or the ache. It carries us forward into the mystery of God’s grace and love. There, spaciousness awaits.

A newsletter by Katie Rea.