Senseless deaths. Wounds fester. Terrorists attack. Fingers point blame. The news channels sensationalize the bad and minimize the good and I wonder, where is hope? When life falls apart and I have no good words, what do I do? In order to know hope, I must walk through the suffering.
We can’t bypass it. We can’t go around it. Sometimes the only way through the suffering is to immerse ourselves in the suffering. And then call out all the fear and pain and lay it at God’s feet.
If we can read in the daytime that God promises to be with us, we must believe it when the darkness is so pervasive we cannot see our hand before us.
If he promises to be with us in the fire then we have to believe when the flames lick our skin and burn our hearts.
If he promises that nothing can separate us from his love then we have to believe him when the darkness closes in and God seems separate from us.
We must sit with him in our suffering. He’s there. He’s there when the world is trying to tell us that he’s not. I’ve chased peace and healing outside of my suffering because I didn’t believe God was right there in the middle of it. And when I leave my suffering, by refusing to acknowledge the pain I’m feeling, I leave God behind.
He’s always with us in our suffering and he wants to hear our hurts and disbelief. He wants us to rage at him because he wants our hearts and sometimes all that’s in our hearts is anger. This is lament.
The Psalms teach us to lament. The Psalms are full of how could you-s, and where are you-s, and why don’t you do something-s. But they’re also full of praises to God while still in the dark. They teach us to empty our hearts of the pain and then to fill our hearts up with reminders of God’s love and faithfulness. And this isn’t a one time experience, but it sometimes needs to be done minute by minute, hour by hour, or day by day.
Do you want hope in your suffering? Then enter into your suffering and feel the feelings that threaten to overwhelm you and then turn your lament into praise. Give words to your pain and then turn your heart to truth because what it true in the daytime is true in the nighttime.
He is a God of hope, of comfort, of peace and when my gaze is fixed on him, I don’t fret, worry, or grow anxious. Hope is Jesus. He is our hope in a fallen, decaying, dying world. I can believe in myself all I want, but when it comes right down to it, my effort is weak against the power in the name of Jesus. What if we wore the name of Jesus and felt the weight of the hope that is in his name rest on our shoulders?
But I don’t. I lie awake at night worrying a prayer, attempting to convince myself that I do trust God and my hope is in him. But my sleeplessness proves my struggle with hope.
Suffering. I’m afraid of it, but I’m learning to embrace it because I know that when I suffer, God gifts me with four things:
“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” 1 Peter 5:10
God restores. He confirms. God strengthens and He establishes. And it all comes through our suffering.
God will restore what the locusts devour. He will confirm his truths in your heart. He is your strength. And he establishes you.
Enter into your suffering, not alone, but with him. He will carry you through and he will give you words to speak when your own are gone.
Because he is the wonder-doing God, he can turn the desert into streams, barrenness into beauty, and he can make a way of hope through our pain.
We only need to be still.
Deserts make me nervous because I can feel so lost and lonely. I search this way and that way, running here and there, but never finding what I’m looking for. I grow weaker and desperate. Panic wells up in my heart. I fear death.
Do you remember when you were a kid and what you should do if you got lost?
Stay where you are.
Be still.
Let them find you.
And so it is with God. Sometimes he leads us into a desert and we wonder where he went, so we start searching for him and questioning his leading. But a desert place is a perfect place to be still.
Be still and know that he is God.
In the desert, our gimmicks and tricks for making sure all our plates stay spinning, don’t work. One by one they crumble to the ground. It’s in the desert place that we become aware of our need for God as each of our coping mechanisms dry up.
The desert place is a place to practice being still. I’ve found that in the desert place, I exert a lot more effort to do the things I normally do: prayer, church, volunteerism, parent, homeschool. Do I get frustrated when I’m in the desert? Absolutely!
But I’ve been to the desert enough times that I’m learning a new dependence on God and most importantly, how to still my soul.
When I still my soul, my eyes begin to see God working and moving. He draws me to himself when I let go of the distractions of life. He grows fruit in me. He makes my pain a door of hope.
“Therefore I am going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt. ‘In that day,’ declares the Lord, ‘you will call me, “my husband,” you will no longer call me, “my master.” Hosea 2:14-16
I have never regretted a desert experience. I’ve seen the phenomenon of how God turns my desert into an oasis and makes something so beautiful out of something so barren. The desert becomes a place of worship, a place to eagerly meet with God, and a place to be still and know him.
Be still and know that he is God today and follow him through the desert places. He will bring beauty to your barrenness.
“You are my hiding place, you will protect me from trouble, you surround me with songs of deliverance.” Psalm 32:7
My everyday life is not calm, quiet, or still. It’s messy and noisy and involves many people. In my everyday life I’m a tired worn out mess. In my everyday life I end up on auto pilot and struggle to remember what I did the day before yesterday and even sometimes two hours ago.
I love the picture this verse paints—a hiding place, hidden from my troubles and surrounded by songs. Maybe it looks something like a water front cabin tucked into the woods of the northwest. Or maybe it’s a private island with white sand as far as the eye can see. Or maybe it’s a hidden nook in a secret garden with the scent of flowers wafting around.
How in the world do I tuck myself into Jesus while at the same time reaching out and ministering to my family, my church, and my community? Practically speaking, literally hiding is out of the question as is a weekend of solitude in my fantasy cabin. There are too many things that require my attention and time. So how does this verse apply to our lives?
He is my hiding place.
We live on two planes: spirit and physical. The soul—our mind, will, and emotions— is the tie between our spirit and our physical selves. What are my thoughts? What choices am I making? How am I feeling? These components need to be brought into obedience to Christ. We must live aware of our thoughts and how our thoughts lead to actions.
He protects me from trouble.
The fight between lies and truth take place in the battlefield of my mind and the renegade thoughts disrupt the peace of God in my heart. I bring trouble on myself through my choices and thoughts. So I tell myself: Think about Christ. Think about his love and promises. Practice living peace, joy, love, patience, goodness, self-control, kindness. Live aware.
He surrounds me with songs of deliverance.
Ah such hope! He is my hiding place, my protector and songs of deliverance soothe my anxious heart. Do you need deliverance from anxiety? Does fear overtake you? Do you question the sovereignty of God? God—our great creator who holds everything—including you and me in his hands, sings songs over us.
Hiding places make me think of quiet, dark, isolated places, but this verse reveals something different. I’m not alone in this hiding place. And it’s not dark. God is light and in him there is no darkness. Imagine his hiding place filled with the most wonderful and warm light and songs fill the air around you.
When you enter into his hiding place you leave the dark world that threatens your peace and experience the light of his presence. And His hiding place is spacious, light-filled rest. You might be facing a challenging job or boss. Maybe your children are driving you to distraction. You might be staring down a health crisis.
[bctt tweet=”The hiding place is not there so you can hide from life—but so that you can find a way through life.” username=””]
The hiding place is not there so you can hide from life—but so that you can find a way through life. It’s when we hide ourselves in Christ that we are strengthened because he takes our weakness and turns it into strength. Troubles threaten our comfort level, but when we find ourselves tucked into the light of God then our heart is kept safe. And it’s in the hiding place that God reveals his deliverance. He will reveal a way through.
God loves you. He cares for you. He provides safety and peace while you live the journey he’s set before you.
Will you step into the spacious, light-filled rest of Jesus? Will you quiet your soul so you can hear the songs of deliverance?
Here are a few quick ideas to help you hide in the Light:
Spend time in Psalms: some of my favorites are Psalm 84, 103, or 144
Play your favorite worship song and sit quietly before the Lord.
