READ
I love the images painted in the Psalms, and I think a “pit” is such a perfect description of despair. Pits can stall a journey and cause falls and injuries, but the worst part of a pit is being utterly, helplessly stuck. Waiting is one of the most tortuous elements of the human experience, and it can be hard to see the big picture of God’s goodness when we are knee-deep in the miry clay at the bottom of a dark pit. In Psalm 40, the psalmist looks back from the other side, remembering what it was like to wait on the Lord and then celebrating the story of his rescue.
Take a moment to read Psalm 40:1-3:
“I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him.”
REFLECT
I’ve attended our church for almost twenty years. Sometimes when I’m there by myself, sitting in a chair waiting for service to start, I think about all the emotions and events in my life that the room has witnessed. In our auditorium, I have laughed with friends, sung my heart out in awe, cried with disappointment, and even sat in anger with my arms crossed over my chest. I’ve stood in that room and pleaded for a friend’s marriage, wept over a diagnosis, and, honestly, questioned everything from my own faith to the goodness of God.
One chunk of time in particular stands out. We were trying to grow our family with another baby, and every obstacle we faced crushed our spirits more than the one before. For literal years, we pleaded with God. We questioned why it wasn’t happening for us. We sang about His goodness while wiping tears of disappointment from our faces. The waiting, at times, felt like torture. There were Sundays I sat through service and didn’t hear a word that was said, but just sat in my yearning and pain.
Now, ten years on the other side of that waiting, I see more of the story. I’m not in that hard part of it anymore. It’s tempting to think of it tritely and wrap it up for others in pretty church language soaked with positivity. The harder truth, the one that doesn’t fit as easily into pretty church sayings, is that the waiting period was terrible and real. And I think truly walking with Christ throughout a lifetime requires sitting with the terrible, real parts of the story that we don’t understand. The waiting, the song after our rescue from it, and the good parts where our feet are set on a rock all matter. They are all part of the story, and all worth testimony.
You may have faced challenges or times of waiting that are much more difficult than mine, or you may not have faced much yet. Unfortunately, the promise of our broken world is that hard times will come. God does not promise us a story free of pain, waiting, confusion, or being stuck. What He does promise is companionship along the way and the knowledge that the story is bigger and more beautiful than any one painful part. He also promises redemption of all things through Christ.
The questions we have to ask ourselves are these: Do I trust that God is writing the bigger story? Do I believe that I will be rescued from the pit? And how can I think about the waiting, the pain, and the hardest moments in a way that honors my Father?
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
Is there a “pit” season in your story you rarely talk about? What did God do there, even if slowly?
If you are currently in a pit, are you being honest about it with God and others? Are you finding ways to connect with God in the waiting?
If you are not currently in one of those waiting or hard times, is there someone you know whom you can encourage while they go through it? Think about ways to genuinely point them to Christ and comfort, rather than trying to fix things for them or take over their story.
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Father, thank You for my story of redemption through Christ and communion with You. I trust that You have my story in the palm of Your hand. Help me to cling to You in the hardest times, celebrate with You in times of deliverance, and trust You with my questions. Amen.
Port City writer Tara Adams wrote today’s devotional.