Between busy school and work schedules, trying to apply for what seems like countless jobs and facing continual rejection, it’s been a stressful last couple of months.
Last Saturday night, I was lying awake in bed. I’d been trying to fall asleep for the last two hours, but my mind was racing.
I was having trouble thinking about the things I wanted to think about.
I could only think of two things clearly. One was the repeating list of the assignments and impossible tasks I still had left to do the next day. The other was the list of worst-case scenarios that could happen after graduation.
I prayed and tried to still my thoughts, but I didn’t feel like God was listening. How could I, who was actively asking the Lord to be with me in this moment, feel so alone?
Getting out of bed the next morning for church was a chore. Several hours short on sleep, I grumbled to myself through my morning routine.
Once my friend and I had made the drive to Muncie, we sat down in the pew with our bulletins in hand.
I glanced at the back page of the bulletin—the sermon notes page. The previous week, when I left the sanctuary, I had realized that the only thing I had written down on the sermon notes page was that day’s list of “to-dos.”
I figured today would be the same.
Starting a new sermon series that would walk through the Psalms of Lament, the Pastor, Jeremiah Kinney, read the day’s text aloud: Psalm 77.
The sermon, titled “Big Emotions…Big God!,” walked through how big emotions are a normal part of human life.
Depression and grief do not mean one is faithless. Being depressed and discouraged is not sinful; it's better than turning to anger and bitterness. It is not an excuse for cynicism, but it is an okay and real place to be.
We can cry out to God. We are in his refining fire. Just like we should not be ashamed and impatient with those around us who are grieving, we should not be ashamed and impatient with ourselves.
Though I didn’t feel it Saturday night, Scripture tells us that God hears us.
I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah
You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old, the years long ago.
I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart. ”Then my spirit made a diligent search:
“Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?
Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah
(Psalm 77:1-9, ESV)
The psalmist asks a rhetorical question here. We know we worship a gracious God, but on the nights we toss and turn, God hears us.
I now ask my own rhetorical question: How great and amazing is it that God, from the beginning of time, knew this sermon series would land on my ears on the day I needed it and on a day that would make me know it was from Him.
Not only was God there in my sleepless night, but He also walks beside me now.
Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”
I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples.
You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah
(Psalm 77:10-15, ESV)
God is older than my sorrows, my fears, my concerns. He is greater than them. He is mighty. He is wise. He is holy, all-powerful, awesome and all-loving.
Then comes the kicker. The psalmist calls back to the faithfulness of God in an event that took place many, many years before his time.
And guess what, God is faithful still.
When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled.
The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side.
The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook.
Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen.
You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
(Psalm 77:16-20, ESV)
As I took in this message, my recent, cynical and burdened self crumbled. I tried not to reproach myself for sobbing (especially as I finished listening to a sermon that invited vulnerability with God) and thanked God again and again, because I realized I was not alone. God heard me in my time of need, and his faithfulness endures time and time again.
If you toss and turn tonight while praying fervently, I’m sorry. That is a very painful place to be in, but I’m so thankful that it's not a shameful place to be in.
The Lord is faithful. I don’t know if He will remove this pain from your life tonight, next year or ever, but He is faithful, and I truly believe He rejoices when his children come to Him for comfort.
God knows what you are going through so intimately, and He wants you to invite Him into that, whether or not you feel Him working or not.
As Kinney concluded, don't reject either: your big emotions or your big God.
If big emotions are where you are at today, I invite you to keep praying this Psalm with me. If you are not in this today, I invite you to pray it for a friend and pray that these words of Scripture will come back to you on the nights when you find yourself too restless to sleep.
