Desperation Ends Where God Begins

Today’s reading: Psalm 31:1-5

There have been plenty of desperate times in my life. (The dictionary’s definition of desperate: having lost hope.) A particular example comes to mind this morning as I ponder today’s reading.

Having been betrayed in the game of office politics at the radio station where I worked in my 20’s, I found myself with just enough money one morning to fill my car with gas drive to the Rio Grande Valley. Several acquaintances worked in radio down there and my desperation made me also naive. I figured I could suddenly appear before these friends, and happy, steady employment would soon be mine again.  I actually even packed most of my clothes and other belongings in my car. I wasn’t planning to return!

I hit the road and surprised several of these people during a busy afternoon at their jobs. All of them were cordial. But none were very helpful. They simply wished me luck and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

That phrase stung every time. It was a common one in radio. DJs would usually repeat it hundreds of times per week in response to song requests they knew they would never honor.

I did much crying on the trip back. I was in such a desperate state, in fact, that a Highway Patrol officer  pulled me over just to check on me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “I just saw that you looked very upset, and wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

If I remember correctly, I think I was snide and sarcastic to him in reply.

Then I ran out of gas about 60 miles from home.

Hungry, tired, and penniless, I became a beggar on the quiet streets of Falfurrias, Texas. Just after dark, I attracted the attention of a  another policeman. But this one offered threats instead of help.

I finally happened upon the Rectory of a Catholic Church and decided to risk ringing the doorbell.

A smiling priest answered and patiently listened to my pleas. He then reached into his wallet and handed me a twenty dollar bill.

I thanked the man profusely, took a card with the church’s address so I could mail repayment soon, and  walked back to the gas station where I’d been harshly turned away about three hours before. The priest’s money bought me much better treatment this time. The station owner put some gas in a can and drove me the five miles or so to my car. He even gave $5 in change so I could buy something to eat.

I finally made it home safely, of course. And I just slept — and cried — for about three straight days.

Then my phone rang. My bosses at my station called to offer an apology — and a better position on their staff.

I ended up turning the offer down, however, because about two hours later I got another call, from another station — with a better paying offer.

So my desperation, in this case, and all others, was only temporary.  Thanks be to God for that.

This is one of many glorious stories I can tell from my younger years, a time when I was not filled with enough grace to realize, and trust, God’s presence.  I found myself desperate quite often back then, and it’s funny that — no matter how hard God worked to rescue me — I never thought to acknowledge His work in my life.

But these days I know better. Like the Psalmist, I now routinely acknowledge, that  God is with me always.

“Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.” (Verse 2)

God always has (and always has had) a solution for my troubles, even when I cannot see it myself.  Though I’ve found myself in one or two even tougher predicaments since that day in Falfurrias, I haven’t felt a sense of desperation for years.

That’s because I’ve come to realize that desperation ends where God begins.

Thanks be to God for always being my faithful rescuer — even during all those years when I wasn’t paying attention to Him.