We are living in times of difficulty leading up to the coming of our Messiah, Yeshua, and therefore we all need courage and grace to persevere. When Andrew Murray was bedridden and sick, he advised another sufferer using these words: “In time of trouble say: “First, He brought me here. It is by His will I am in this straight place; in that I will rest. Next, He will keep me here in His love, and give me grace to behave as His child. Then, He will make the trial a blessing, teaching me the lessons He intends me to learn, and working in me the grace He means to bestow. Last, In His good time He can bring me out again – how and when He knows. [Therefore] let me say I am here, (1) by God’s appointment; (2) in his keeping; (3) under His training; and (4) for His time.”
Deep within I discover that I can bless the Lord, losing sight of myself and my fears as I affirm my deepest purpose and heritage: “My (boundary) lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my inheritance is beautiful to me” (Psalm 16:6). Though I might have felt bereft and even tempted to curse my estate, by God’s grace I am made able to give thanks and to bless, even in the midst of my troubles and pain: “I will bless the LORD who has counseled me; my conscience disciplines me in the night” (Psalm 16:7). Therefore שִׁוִּיתִי יְהוָה לְנֶגְדִּי תָמִיד – “I have set the Lord always before me” – especially in desperate moments when I can barely endure – since I have learned that “because he is at my right hand, I shall not come undone” (Psalm 16:8). God gives me strength to renew my hope: therefore “my heart is made glad, my whole being rejoices, and my body shall rest in trust” (Psalm 16:9).
Hebrew Lesson
When I feel hopeless, I seek hope; when in pain, I seek strength; when in despair over besetting sins, I yearn again for a place I can call home… In the midst of these things, my heart wonders whether my suffering has come because I deserve it or somehow “need” it. I reason that it may make sense that God extends special care for his favored ones, for those who are righteous and who seem free from the vexation of despair, but does it make sense for me, one who is undone, broken, alone, and unworthy? My heart protests that this is not the whole story of my life, and that more to be said. I need God and I know that he cares for me. I recall his promises to heal, to bind up the broken of heart, and extend his comfort for our afflictions. Might pain herald the advent of something new to come? Might there be a deeper beauty and surpassing grace going “through the wound” instead of objecting to it?