Psalm 6

A few years ago, my husband read a book called Why Men Hate Going to Church by David Murrow. Out of the many things he told me about the book, the one thing that has stuck with me is that a lot of men are a bit uncomfortable with all the “relationship” imagery the church uses when it comes to God—especially referring to God as a Lover. And I will agree that much of church (and church language) has become “feminized.” Here’s one example from Murrow’s book:

“In the Baptist universe you have two kinds of people: the saved and the lost. Men hate to be lost; that’s why they don’t ask for directions. If you tell a man he’s lost, he will instinctively resist you! George Barna notes that a majority of unchurched people resent being referred to as lost. And the only thing worse than being lost is being saved. . .

“Although Jesus used the term saved a number of times in the Gospels, only twice did He pronounce someone saved (Luke 7:50; 19:9). But He called many to follow Him. Hear the difference? Follow gives a man something to do. It suggest activity instead of passivity. But being saved is something that happens to damsels in distress.”

So, men, if the traditional church hasn’t offered much in the way of speaking to your manhood, I want to assure you that God is able to relate (there’s that word again—sorry!) to you as a man. There’s a great clue to that in this chapter of Psalms. And even though it may appear somewhat “feminine” on the surface, we’ll find something wonderful and inclusive about God underneath the surface.

David wrote, “Go away, all you who do evil, for the Lord has heard my weeping.” (vs 8)

Perhaps, right off the bat, most men wouldn’t even want to admit to weeping. Heck, I’m a girl, and I hate the thought of crying in front of anyone else! But, in this psalm, David makes it very clear in the preceding verses that he is devastated. He says his emotions have worn him out—his troubles are even keeping him up at night. Male or female, I’m sure we have all had that kind of experience at one time or another!

That’s why I love how David says that God has heard his weeping. Things are so upside-down in his world that he can’t eat, he can’t sleep, and he can’t even pray. All he can do is cry—but God hears that, just as if it were conversation. In his commentary on this verse, Charles Spurgeon said, “Is it not sweet to believe that our tears are understood even when words fail! Let us learn to think of tears as liquid prayer.”

So, gentlemen, if it troubles you to think of God as a lover or parent, imagine Him instead as your best friend, sitting next to you in the bar or running a mile with you around the track. You don’t have to produce some sort of deep, intimate conversation in order to spend time with Him. He hears it all—even when what we are thinking can’t be put into words. He hears the silences; He hears the groans; and, yes, He hears the tears (even when we would never admit shedding them to another person).

And, like the best kind of friend a man can have, He also knows just what to do at the right time. He knows when to talk, when to laugh, when to challenge you, when to be quiet, and when to slap you upside the head. So, don’t let the church put you off when it comes to God. You can be real with Him as a man. It doesn’t matter if you need to shout, scream, be quiet, talk, groan, or cry—He can hear (and handle) it all.