A Psalm for Those Who Got Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed

God, I know I am being short with my kids. I know this isn’t how You want me to act. I want to read my Bible this morning, but I can’t focus. Help me.

That about sums up my morning prayer the other day. I could feel my frustrations rising, and I knew it was for no good reason. I was just tired. Up late, I had been watching the weather for a big storm that ended up missing us. Up again in the middle of the night for a whining, half-asleep child who wouldn’t go back to sleep. Up early because, well, three young kids don’t know the meaning of “sleeping in.”

So that morning, after snapping at my kids a few times, I opened my Bible. A psalm will help. Those are always good.

I flipped to the middle and started searching. I didn’t have anything in mind, but I knew I needed to be reminded of the joy I have in Christ.

Skimming the psalms to find a “good” one, I read a number of subtitles:

Psalm 3, when David fled from Absalom his son.
Psalm 56, when the Philistines seized David in Gath.
Psalm 57, when David fled from Saul, in the cave.

Psalm after psalm about these life-threatening events.

Where is the psalm about simply being in a bad mood? The psalm about waking up on the wrong side of the bed? Were these people always running for their lives, or did they sometimes just have a bad day?

Sometimes it feels like the psalms are so distant from where we are today. Many were written by a future king in a foreign land who was frequently on the run from a murderous king or son or friend. As a 21st century woman who lives a pretty easy life in the US, it can be hard to relate.

So what do we turn to when we’re not facing life-threatening danger? When we aren’t pursued by enemies? When we’re not sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, praying desperately for healing? Where do we look for encouragement when we’re simply grumpy because we haven’t slept well?

As it turns out, we look to those same psalms. 

As I sat in my chair that morning, sipping hot coffee, waiting to be fully awake, and asking God to help me be a loving mother and wife that day, He led me to those same psalms I had initially dismissed. He reminded me that if He was enough for David, hiding in a cave from a king – his best friend’s dad – who wanted to murder him, then He is enough for me when all I want is to sit in a comfy chair and sulk. He reminded me that if He was worthy of the highest praise when David’s own son attempted to usurp his throne, then He is worthy of my highest praise every day, when my own son just wants a bowl of Cheerios.

We all know that not all problems are the same size. We can’t pretend like they are. But God used the psalms to remind me that He sees me and my problems, big and small. He is patient with me. He loves me so much that He sent His Son to live and die in my place, even when I am so self-absorbed that I am tempted to forget the magnitude of Who He is and what He did.

So maybe David didn’t put pen (or feather?) to paper (or papyrus? I really don’t know) when he simply hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. But I’m guessing, if he did ever wake up on the wrong side of his kingly bed in his palace, he would have remembered God’s past faithfulness in the caves, and he would have hoped in God’s promises. One day there will be a life with God that never ends, in a kingdom with no enemies, no hunger, no death, no tears, and no grumpy mornings. And we can hope in those same promises.

Our mood might not change immediately. But as we practice the habit of remembering God’s faithfulness and promises, it will become easier for our emotions to follow what we know in our heads to be true. God still loves us on the days we are grumpy, and His mercies are still new every morning, even when we don’t feel it.

May God be exalted in our good days and our bad days (Psalm 46). May we remember there is fullness of joy in his presence (Psalm 16). May we sing praises to the awesome God who gives power and strength to His people day in and day out (Psalm 68). Blessed be the Lord our God.