Psalms – Kristi P. Powell

Deep Breath Before the Plunge

In one of my favorite books, The Return of the King, Gandalf, the venerable wizard, and Pippin, the playful but maturing Hobbit, arrive at a major city at the cusp of an enormous battle. Everyone is on edge, waiting for it to start. Gandalf calls it “the deep breath before the plunge”. I’ve been here several times in my life, on the edge of something completely life-changing.

Before I left for college, the first person in my close-knit family to leave home, move to another state, and complete a bachelor’s degree.

Before I moved overseas, to another country to learn a new, difficult language and be immersed in a new culture.

Before I moved back to America, not knowing in the least what was next.

Before I got married, choosing to trade singleness for lifelong partnership.

And now, I sit at the cusp of adopting four children, ages two to seven. I’ve taken lots of deep breaths before this plunge. These quiet moments of preparation before my “normal” is completely turned upside down are precious, and frightening at times.

In the weeks or months leading up to a big change, my heart has a tug of war with itself. I don’t like change, yet God’s given me an adventuring spirit that is willing to go into uncharted territory. All the what-ifs swirl around my head. I am a champion at worst-case-scenarios, which makes for great story-telling, but leads to anxiety in my personal life. It is all too easy to spiral down into fear and despair, long before any difficult thing actually happens. I’ve had moments of panic, wondering what in the world I was thinking when I made this decision. Surely you can’t handle this. It’s too hard. It’s too big. And too uncomfortable.

And while those things are true of every adventure I’ve embarked on, there is another truth that rings even truer. If God asked me to do this, he will be by my side supplying grace, strength, perseverance, and wisdom to accomplish it every step of the way. This is his plan, not mine. I’m not writing this story, he is. And I must trust the Author.

Even if nothing of the rest of my life is as I planned, expected or hoped, I will still cry out, “I have no good apart from [God]!” (Ps. 16:2). He is my never-changing Rock of Ages in the midst of the enormous, approaching change. Everything around me will look different in a few weeks, but he is and always will be the same.

Savior.

Provider.

Faith-giver.

Way-maker.

My Rock and fortress.

My God in whom I trust.

This leap of faith says nothing about me. I will never be able to look back and boast, “Look at all the amazing things I did.” No. I don’t have any faith in my own abilities. I am weak. I have and will fail. No, all the good in me is God’s work. He get’s all the credit and glory. I’m just a vessel, a clay jar in which he hid his surpassing treasure. He is worthy and he is with me. I’m ready for the plunge.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”
1 Corinthians 4:7

When Hope Hurts

I did it again. I worked on my Pintrest nursery board. I mentally counted the months and estimated the due date. I thought through how and when we’d tell our families. I imagined holding a tiny human with my husband’s eyes, listening to infant squeaks. But with familiar pangs in my empty womb came the lance of reality. No baby.

Hope is a beautiful thing, but what if hope becomes an enemy? What if, in this season of life, hope is cruel, risky, and unfulfilled? What do we do when hope hurts?

Hope is a feeling of anticipation and a desire for a certain thing to happen. This anticipation and its appeal is universal. Hope is the central agent of change in storytelling and great epics: Luke to the Rebellion, Frodo to the Fellowship, and Harry to the good wizards and witches.

Hope can affect our bodies as well as our minds. Researchers learned that hope can even alter neurochemistry, mimicking the effects of morphine by releasing endorphins and enkephalins to block pain (Jerome Groopman).

Hope in Scripture

Hope is a central theme of the Bible. In the Old Testament, the word hope is used eighty-eight times (ESV). Many of these passages express the anticipation of the Messiah and the fulfillment of God’s promises to Abraham and the Israelites. Job, a book centered on suffering, uses “hope” twenty-one times, and it appears twenty-eight times in the Psalms, a book in which the psalmist doesn’t shy away from expressing anguish, fear, and joy to God.

In the New Testament, we see the disciples’ hope that Jesus is the Messiah. Peter was one of the first to recognize Jesus was the Christ (Matt. 16:16). He promised to never deny him, and even to die with him (Matt. 26:33-35). Peter’s hope was so utterly crushed after denying Jesus three times, he wept bitterly (Matt. 26:75). Yet on the third day after Jesus’ death, Peter himself ran to the tomb and found it empty. Later Jesus appeared and restored him. Hope kindled. Hope lost. Hope restored. Hope fulfilled.

What do we do when we find ourselves pierced by hope like Peter, left broken and weeping bitterly?

Shift your Hope

In an oft repeated refrain, the psalmist writes,

“Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.”
Ps. 42:11

When hopes are dashed and all seems the darkest, hope in God. Hope, when placed in God, is an unquenchable beacon in the night. God will not fail us. His faithfulness knows no end. He is unchangeable, all powerful, sovereign, good, and just.

If our ultimate hope is in God and his provision in Christ to cover our sin, our darkest day on earth will be the closest we ever get to hell. Even when we see the whites of the eyes of the enemy and feel him breathing down our neck, we have unshakeable hope. We are in Christ, perfect and complete, made righteous and holy through the blood of the Lamb. Our hope is founded not in this world, but in the eternal Kingdom of God.

Don’t Lose Heart

Do you hope for rest? “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

Do you hope for peace? “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7).

Do you hope for joy? “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Ps. 16:11).

Do you hope for restoration? “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).

Do you hope to be rid of your flesh? “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6).

Dear one, do not lose heart. God knows and sees the hope that hurts you. Don’t put your hope in temporary things. Rest in your ultimate hope, the Lord, and bask in the assurance that his hope will never be foiled or disappointed. We will one day be with him.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Romans 15:13

The Pit of Despair – Part 2

When Stranger Things became somewhat of a cultural phenomenon, I broke my no horror rule and watched it. The first season was torture. Every little glimpse of the monster had me on the edge of my seat. I had nightmares a few times and stopped watching it before I went to bed. It was killing me that I didn’t know what the monster was. “Just tell me!” I begged my husband, who had already finished the season. “If I know what the monster is I can handle it!”

I felt the same way about anxiety. If I could see it, examine it, understand it, I could get over it. However the more I probed it, the greater my anxiety grew. I didn’t understand this monster and it terrified me. I’m not alone. Women seem to especially struggle with worry and anxiety. What does God have to say to women who are stalked by this beast?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” Matthew 6:25-27

However when I was gripped by anxiety, it seemed God was simply saying in these verses, “Don’t feel this way”. That is far from the truth! God doesn’t want us to be anxious and worried. He wants us to be dependent on him for all things and walk in joy, no matter our circumstances. Below are some nuts and bolts of leaning on God as we struggle with anxiety.

Lament and Turn

I loved the Psalms since I was a little girl, but anxiety caused me to mine from their depths deep, raw truths. David faced much pain in his life, and his psalms of lament are full of emotion, raw, and unfiltered.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? Psalms 13:2-3

I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes. Psalms 6:6-7

I could honestly pray these psalms word for word. I was right there with David in the pit. But his eyes were turned upwards. After confessing his pain, confusion, and suffering, the Psalmist reaffirms his faith in God’s character and deliverance.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. Psalms 13:5-6

When we’re in the throes of anxiety, God doesn’t want us to pretend everything is ok. We can cry out to him and confess our weakness, frustration, and pleas for help. However, don’t camp out at lament. Turn to God and read his promises. His words may not feel true in that moment, but ask for faith to believe and trust that they are true.

Don’t follow your heart

Anxiety is physical. The heart racing, limb trembling, chest tightening, chill wracking beast can leap on you in the matter of second. As a woman who is wired to process things first by feeling, anxiety wrecked my baseline.

Looking back, I see God’s mercy. I relied on myself for far too long. Through anxiety, he taught me that we cannot make feelings the plumb line for our lives. Only God and his Word have that authority in the life of a believer! No matter what we feel, God’s Word is true. He’s always faithful. Read God’s promises. Memorize them. Sing them. Weep them. Plea with them. They may feel far off, but they are true. God is true to his Word and he never fails, even when we do (Psalms 73:26).

Flee to the Cross

In the end, allowing our thoughts dwell on worry and fear is a sin like any other. We are all fallen creatures, unable to attain the righteousness God requires. We’ve all fallen into the pit, stale dry bones, unable to raise ourselves out. Yet God does not leave us there. He comes down into the pit to bring us out. He breathes life into us, takes us in, mends us, restores us, and makes us his daughters. Oh, sweet, beautiful truth! We need not despair when we find ourselves wrestling with our darkest monsters. Our God is a warrior king! He sent Jesus Christ to destroy the serpent, the evil one who coaxed the rotting carcass of sin into this world. He crushes our sin through the power of his Spirit, and we are free to walk in newness of life! Amen!

In his presence

In the midst of a panic attack, my mom held me tight and rocked me like I was a child again. “You won’t feel this way forever.” She whispered. She was right, and God gives an even greater promise.

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Psalms 16:11

Because we are daughters of God, we are given the Holy Spirit (Eph. 1:13). We are in the presence of God every moment because of this remarkable gift. In God’s presence there is fullness of joy. Does your heart swell like mine when you read that? We find fullness of joy in the midst of life’s most difficult circumstances because God is with us. Praise him!

Resources:

https://erlc.com/resource-library/articles/learning-to-lament-4-lessons-from-psalms https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/your-emotions-are-a-gauge-not-a-guide

Pit of Despair – Part 1

Anxiety. Even typing that word sends my stomach roiling. The mind racing, faith numbing, heart pounding monster. It brings waves of heat and shivers of cold. It lurks in the dark places of the heart, whispering urgency behind every fear.

I scoffed at it before, deeming those who struggled with this beast as weak in the faith. If only they prayed more or believed the gospel more fervently, their fears would melt away. But I didn’t understand it. I didn’t grasp the complete physicality of its grip, the terror of the mind and flesh that it sprung. I look back and hang my head. What callousness, what unkindness my words of advice must have been. I didn’t understand.

I descended in my pit of despair soon after I got back to America. I spent two years overseas and when I got back to the States, I felt completely out of place. My heart was in Africa, but my body was firmly planted in the arctic cold of a Minnesotan winter. I stayed with my family and struggled to keep my anxiety hidden. I wasn’t supposed to be afraid or sad. I was supposed to be happy! I should feel “normal” here, but I didn’t.

The monster ate away at me from the inside out. It began with an occasional racing pulse. I took deep breaths and went on. Things got worse. I couldn’t sleep. I dreaded the night because there was nothing to divert my thoughts. I fought for breath against my ever tightening chest. My mind raced and nothing would calm it. I’d lay in bed, listening to soothing music, willing my mind and body to relax. But no. I shook. I wept. Something was terribly wrong.

But what? Nothing was really wrong. Nothing bad had happened. No one had hurt me nor had I lived through a traumatic event. When people asked what I was anxious about, I had no words. I honestly didn’t know. The monster continued to stalk me.

I read my Bible. I devoured it. I spent hours reading. But the words didn’t make the anxiety go away. It worsened it. I’d read and feel nothing. My faith was numb. When I prayed, all I heard was static. I cried for help and heard nothing from God. I wept in prayer. I read David’s psalms through tear blurred eyes, begging for God to come and aid me. I thought I was going crazy. I had an annual physical, but didn’t go into details with my doctor on the extent of my issues. I didn’t want anti-anxiety medication to lull me into a daze. The feelings were drowning me, but I knew that if I didn’t face this now, it would only return later. I couldn’t even sing anymore. I sat in church and wept. And still. He didn’t relent.

God broke me. He shattered me into a thousand pieces. I had nothing to offer. My uncontrollable trembling hands were empty. Absolutely empty. And today, by his grace, I praise him for that dark valley. It was his great mercy that he tore down my idols of control, self-righteousness, and fear of man. And he taught me a priceless lesson.

In the suffering, he is there.

When I couldn’t speak, he was there. When I couldn’t sleep, he was there. When I couldn’t breathe, he was there. When I couldn’t believe, he was there. When I begged for him to relent and the anxiety persisted, he was there.

God gathered up all the shattered pieces and painstakingly pieced me back together. It took time. It took prayer. It took a lot of tears. One of my roommates, a remarkable woman of the faith, wept with me every night for a season, praying scripture, begging God to relent. God heard those prayers and answered them in his own perfect time. I went through counseling. I pressed into the community in my church and found support and accountability. In his perfect time and way, God relented.

I still struggle with anxiety. Sometimes it’s tied to anxious thoughts, but mostly it springs on me as I’m drifting off to sleep, jolting me awake. God is still working on me. Thank the Lord!

Psalms 16 was one of the passages of scripture that I read a lot in the pit. Every verse is full of rich, beautiful truths, but the first two verses sustained me.

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.” Psalms 16:1-2

I prayed this countless times. I have no good apart from you. At the time it certainly didn’t feel true, but in the measure of grace God gave me, I was able to pray this in faith. I clung to this truth when my own mind and body were in tumult. He was there, and his words are true.