Cows, Hikes and Running For Your Life

Psalm 55

For the director of music. With stringed instruments. A maskil of David.

¹ Listen to my prayer, O God,
    do not ignore my plea; 
²     hear me and answer me. 
My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught 
³     because of what my enemy is saying,
    because of the threats of the wicked;
for they bring down suffering on me 
    and assail me in their anger.

⁴ My heart is in anguish within me;
    the terrors of death have fallen on me.
⁵ Fear and trembling have beset me;
    horror has overwhelmed me.
⁶ I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
    I would fly away and be at rest.
⁷ I would flee far away
    and stay in the desert; 
⁸ I would hurry to my place of shelter, 
    far from the tempest and storm. ”

***

In Psychology class in high school, I learned about this fascinating mental process called "Fight or Flight." When a person is unexpectedly presented with a problem or dangerous situation, their brains cause them to act in one of two ways: Either extricate themselves from the situation as fast as possible, or actively move toward it with the intention of destroying or subduing it.

This came into play at one point years ago as I was on a hike with a friend. We came upon an open field with numerous huge cows in it. They all looked up and stared at us as soon as we walked by, obviously assessing whether or not we were a threat. I put myself between the cows and my friend, telling her "It's alright, they won't hurt you."

At this point, the cow started running right at us. There was no fence or barrier, mind you; nothing was between this cow and me. As soon as the cow made it's way toward me, I panicked. I ran! My friend had the good sense to run too, and the cow stopped running as soon as we got far enough away. 

Not my proudest moment. I had every intention of standing my ground and protecting her, but when push came to shove, I fled. My brain switched into "flight" mode. Not cool, brain. 

But let's be honest; I was afraid.

David is not physically afraid of anyone here, but he feels just as attacked as I did that day on the hiking path. He wants to run. He longs for a way to escape his situation. People are slandering him, hurting him with their words. Most of us would shrug off hurtful words instead of admitting being in pain. Sticks and stones, right?

David wrote this in a place of complete truth and honesty with the Father. He was not afraid to admit his pain or his hurt. He tells God all about his desire to flee and rid himself of the situation he's in. 

So what can we learn from this short passage? 

1. Being honest with God, no matter what, will help us. We may not feel it right away, but we were built and designed to be intimately connected with our Creator; when we trust him enough to talk openly about our issues with Him, He is pleased.
2. It's alright to be afraid. We are human, we are flawed, and we are weak more often than we would like to admit. Jesus stressed out so much, he sweat blood; through all of that, he remained sinless. We are allowed to be afraid. Within that fear, we need to work toward a trusting of God.

Are we honest with God? Do we trust Him? Are we accepting of our own human nature?