Praise the Lord, O My Soul

When you need to remember — that You're still my Shepherd.

You can wake up and find that the help you have been counting on has quietly evaporated — the boss who said he had your back, the friend who said she would be there, the institution you were sure would hold, the public figure you put hope in. Their breath went forth, they returned to their earth, and in that very day their thoughts perished. Not because they were villains. Because they were sons of men. You do not need a new prince to count on. Praise the Lord, O your soul, while you live — because the One who made heaven and earth keeps truth forever, and that is a different kind of help.

He starts by speaking to himself: "Praise the Lord, O my soul. While I live will I praise the Lord; I will sing praises unto my God while I have any being." That is the move — the soul does not always start out praising; sometimes it has to be told. Then the warning: "Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help. His breath goes forth, he returns to his earth; in that very day his thoughts perish." That is realism. Every human help has an expiration date — not because they are bad, because they are mortal. Trust them past their lifespan and you end up empty-handed. Then the contrast: "Happy is he that has the God of Jacob for his help... who made heaven and earth... who keeps truth forever." Then the receipts: He executes judgment for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, loosens the prisoners, opens the eyes of the blind, raises those that are bowed down, preserves the strangers, relieves the fatherless and widow. The list is intentionally low to the ground — every person no prince ever remembers, He remembers. "The Lord shall reign for ever, even your God, O Zion, unto all generations." Princes go; He reigns.

• Right now, talk to your own soul out loud — like the writer does — and say: "Praise the Lord, O my soul. While I live will I praise the Lord." • Write this down: "Which prince — which person, leader, institution — have I been trusting past their actual lifespan?" • Repeat this line when the temptation to count on a son of man comes back: "Happy is he that has the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God."

Stop. Breathe. Let the truth that He reigns forever — past every prince, past every breath that goes forth — press your hope back up where it belongs, then tell Him exactly what you want to put back in His hands instead of someone else's — out loud if you can.

God — praise the Lord, O my soul — while I live, while I have any being, while there is breath in me to say so. Forgive me for trusting in princes — in people whose breath goes forth and whose thoughts perish in that very day. You made heaven and earth, the sea and all that therein is, and You keep truth forever — that is the kind of help I want my hope built on. You loosen prisoners; You open the eyes of the blind; You raise those that are bowed down; You preserve the strangers; You relieve the fatherless and the widow — be that to me, and through me to the people You have set me near. You shall reign forever, even my God, unto all generations — long after the names I was tempted to count on are forgotten. You're still my Shepherd.

Princes go but He reigns — the help that made heaven and earth keeps truth.