“Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.
I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God.”
Psalm 69 is a lament, one that puts into words the agony of my own heart right now. I am weary. Night after night I can’t sleep. My body is weakened by stress and I’m physically ill. I feel like a worn out old shoe that has to keep running.
Can you relate?
It doesn’t seem so long ago when the Psalms of Lament hardly made sense to me. I was happy, carefree, full of faith and hope. My life philosophy—”it’ll all work out”—was based on the unwavering belief in the goodness and sovereignty of God. It’s not that I was unfamiliar with suffering. I had faced the worst kinds of hardship that you can imagine—and yet my joy couldn’t be snuffed out.
But now the waters have come up to my neck and I am gasping for air. I still believe in the goodness and sovereignty of God, which is why I cry out to him for help, but he feels far away. His back is turned to me.
And so now, finally, I am learning the cost of faith.
The Psalmist, apparently while still barely treading the deep waters, says,
“I will praise God’s name in song
and glorify him with thanksgiving…
The LORD hears the needy.”
Praising God in advance for rescuing me, though he seems already too late, requires faith so deep I have to suck it out of the marrow of my bones—digging and scraping for it when it refuses to come—rather than depending on my optimistic nature to help it bubble to the surface.
This kind of faith hurts. A lot.
I sing, “Let the waters rise if you want them to. I will follow you,” but the tears stream down my face as I do. It’s like reaching the 25 mile marker in a marathon: you go on even though each step hurts.
And that’s when I remember that Jesus himself did this same thing.
“Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!” (Hebrews 12:2-3, The Message)
I’m going to press on, no matter what the cost. I’m going to focus on the prize to strengthen my feeble arms and weak knees. And I’ll trust God even if the water pulls me under.
How about you? Will you fix your eyes on Jesus too?
ABOUT HEATHER GEMMEN WILSON
Heather Gemmen Wilson loves to laugh. She says, "Through all the circumstances of my life, I have gained more than I have lost ... and I'm not just talking weight." Heather is married to her best...
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I know that Psalm well. In a high school drama class I had to chose a piece to memorize and recite for dramatic interpretation and I chose Psalm 69. Those words have always spoken to my soul. Through different trials and times of pain and agony, that Psalm has always come back to me–and I believe that the point of those words is that the difference between lament and regret is Grace. Grace makes regret bearable because our gracious God is sovereign and He uses every affliction, betrayal or bad choice to draw me closer to Him. Lament is woeful regret without hope. I have known lament only when I have denied His Grace or despised His sovereignty. But when I humbly submit myself to Grace lament fades to regret and when I recognize and rejoice in His sovereignty that regret fades leaving nothing but vibrant thankfulness. This thought process is how I recenter and reset my perspective to where it should be. And that is Peace.
Love this! And what a great illustration of the power of memorizing scripture. Thanks for sharing.
Yes, I have and I will by the grace of God! Thanks for your post.
Heather,
I have been in this place also. Psalm 69 was one of the Psalms that I read over and over not understanding what it meant. Not understanding why God would not answer this writer. Why He wouldn’t answer me. I was missing the boat on this one because I didn’t focus on the end. Give thanks anyway. It took me a long time to see that verse because I was so stuck on me and my problems I couldn’t see that I need to thank God for these problems and issues because they are what helped shape me into the person God is wanting me to be.
I’m sorry you are going through a rough time. I know all to well the insomnia, the constant stress that makes you physically ill. I felt like I could not get up and move through one more day on many occasions. I kept going back to a Psalm that a dear friend sent me in an email: Psalm 118:5 In my anquish I cried to the Lord, he answered by setting me free. My idea of free was not his idea of course but looking back now over things I like his ‘free’ better than mine!
Amen! His ways are beyond our ways.
Heb. 11: 1Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
It’s hard stepping out into the unseen in faith not knowing where the sole of your foot is going to land. Our family is currently in this place.
Faith is waiting patiently on Him. It’s hard when you want an answer RIGHT NOW, but His answer is “wait, be still, rest in me”
In the midst of trial too and have to keep reminding myself of Jer. 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”
Praying for you …
Waiting has to be the most painful—and most effective—discipline that God uses. I pray that his Words will give you the perseverance you need. Thanks for sharing.
Heather, this helped me…Steven Curtis Chapman quoted Martin Luther who said, “there are only two days that matter…this day and that day…when we see Jesus face to face…what we believe about that day will determine how we live this day.”
First I am sorry for your trial, and that your faith is so sorely tested.
I can relate we are having some trouble and I spent last weekend with a sorely bruised heart crying out to God. I want a fix or a miracle and none seems to be coming. My prayer this week has been, show me what you need us to learn, help us make wise decisions.
Praying for your relief!
I have no words except these I feebly whisper … “I love you. I am so sorry for your pain and I am so thankful that God will not allow you to drown in it. I am so thankful that you are brave enough to share. You are beautiful. You. are. beautiful.”
Thanks, Angela. So much! I’m thankful to be part of the (in)courage sisterhood.
Oh Heather, I hear you. Our family has been struggling with some issues for 3 years now. We keep praying and God doesn’t seem interested in helping us out or opening doors, or showing us what/where to do/go. It gets so frustrating sometimes. I was listening to a Christian radio station the other day and she was talking about how sometimes she just opens her Bible and the Lord starts speaking to her, right there on the first verse. I thought I would try it. I turned to Habakkuk 3 and started reading. Nothing struck me. Then I got to the last half of verse 16 and following. I started laughing. Basically it says when my well dries up I will still give thanks to God. My God has such a sense of humor – I love it. And it puts me right in my place.
Praying for you.
Sounds like you’re feeling the pain of faith too. Giving thanks when our well is dry takes supernatural strength. I pray that the Lord will supply you with it!
Feeling these things this morning, like I’m treading water and nothing more. Trying to refocus on Him and digging for my faith. It’s just one of those days that I feel angry, frustrated and annoyed due to a bunch of little things creeping up on me. Blah.
Heather, I have been there. The waters close in on you and you feel like you are alone, and the one thing to od is just hold on to that faith. Oh, I have been there. The past two years have been so hard, part my fault/part circumstances, but hard nonetheless. Many days it was so painful that the only solace was literally getting on my knees and just crying. But it tested me and my faith. To this day sometimes I still have to deal with remnants of those issues and it brings all the pain back. And that is when I pray the hardest. Its a continuous thing. Praying for your relief, sweetie.
Thanks, Maria.
Heather,
Thanks for sharing such a tender, intimate part of your life. In so doing you have encouraged many of us to pray for you and other around us. You’ve made me turn my eyes of my “puny, unimportant” problem and focus more on others and God!
God Bless you! :”)
Wow.
That’s all I got.
Wow.
Bless God for you, and bless you for this post.
Thank you for putting words to my thoughts and feelings. It’s such a breath of fresh air to hear an honest pain filled outpouring from a Christian. So much of what we see, hear and read seems to be more “fake it til you make it” faith. Is that really faith at all? To know that someone else is out there, drowning in your situation, calling out to God who seems silent. The waves still crash around you, the sea still rolls, but you sputter and spit and cry out not only that you believe, but that you will praise Him. To know that I am not alone is great comfort.
I hear you, Kat. It’s tempting to play the happy Christian role, isn’t it? I recognize the risk in being open like this—and have felt the negative impact already; but honestly, I think it’s even riskier to keep silent. By faking it, we risk losing our faith; we risk building relationships on sandy ground; we risk missing out on blessing others. Thanks so much for your encouragement, and I’m glad it’s a comfort to you.
Oh wow. This so touched me–and relates to my life right now where Satan has been prowling and attacking.
Gasping for air paints the exact picture of what my soul and admittedly, even my faith at times, feels like.
Thank you for being real.
Yes, this kind of faith does hurt- I am looking forward to being on the other side.
It does hurt. I’m sorry you’re feeling it too. Let’s keep our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.
Praying for you… Strength to sustain you during this trial.
I’ve felt this way many times. I often live by that same “it’ll work out” motto too!
I try to be encouraging for myself and those around me. Discouragement is so maddening and debilitating!
It can paralyze us and keep us trapped in a bondage that seems inescapable!
I’m so thankful for the Holy Spirit who knows me so well and lifts me up out of the pit when I find myself wallowing there. I love the book of Psalms, it reminds me I’m NOT the only one who’s struggled!
Oh God. And I mean that as the prayer it is. You have so adequately described the state of my soul right now that I can do nothing but add my heart’s cry to yours. Thank you for sharing this. It helps my heart to move through the grief when I am able to relate to the words of someone else who is also traveling through one of life’s dark valleys.
i can relate to this post on so many levels… my faith has been tested this year in so many areas of my life and i’m learning what it really means to trust and have faith even in the darkest of circumstances. i’m learning every day that God is close to the brokenhearted and what a comfort that is.
Thank you so much for this. It was exactly what I needed for today as I feel like treading water to keep my head above it was more than I could handle. God has a plan & a solution though. I pray that your circumstance improves in a way that’s better than you could imagine & that God blesses you for your faithfulness.
I have lived that. I kept crying for help – but my view of help was on a different time schedule. He was helping but it had to unfold. So I started asking, “Be with me.” And He was . . . and is. . . and it felt different, comforting, like He was right beside me, holding my hand. So nice to know that I am not the only one who has felt that overwhelming challenge. Praying for you, too!
I love this blog so much! Your vulnerability and honesty is so refreshing. I keep going back and re-reading this – it speaks to me. Thank you.
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