510_The light of God’s faithfulness in dark days

Psalm 77 I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
2 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.
3 When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah

4 You hold my eyelids open;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
5 I consider the days of old,
the years long ago.
6 I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
let me meditate in my heart.”
Then my spirit made a diligent search:
7 “Will the Lord spurn forever,
and never again be favorable?
8 Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
9 Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah

10 Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”

11 I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
12 I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds.
13 Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
14 You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
15 You with your arm redeemed your people,
the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

When William Carey, the great missionary to India, returned home one evening in 1812, expecting the familiar comfort of his study, he was greeted instead by the charred remains of his house and printing press. Almost all his work had been consumed by the fire. Years of painstaking work—the manuscripts of his translations of the scriptures into Indian languages, dictionaries, and other writings—lay in ashes. Carey had devoted countless hours to this work, but much of it was now irretrievably lost.

Instead of collapsing in despair, Carey revealed remarkable composure. He wrote to a friend, “The loss is heavy, but as traveling a road the second time is usually done with greater ease than the first, so I trust the work will lose nothing of real value. We are not discouraged. We will begin again with redoubled vigor.”

Such resilience in the face of devastating loss was driven by Carey’s secret strength. This lay in the constant habit of looking beyond immediate circumstances to the unchanging faithfulness of God. He focused, not on the ashes of his labor, but on the God whose wonderful deeds in the past assured him of His goodness in the future.

This is the very melody of Psalm 77. It is a psalm for those walking through fire, for those standing among the ruins of what once was, for those facing questions with no immediate answers.

This psalm of Asaph begins with anguish. “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.” These are prayers that groan without rest, constant cries of pain.

Instead of turning to princes or people, or drowning his sorrows in worldly busyness or comfort, Asaph turned to God. He knew that only God could meet him at the point of his despair. Yet doubt continued to beset his soul. The memory of Israel’s past, when God’s miraculous interpositions were commonplace, led to even more hurt and more doubt.

He remembered past days when songs of praise came easily in the night, when his soul sang with the joy of salvation. In that darkness, his questions knew no rest: “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?”

Very likely, we have all asked the same in our own trials. But here lies the turning point. Asaph, though overwhelmed by questions, makes a deliberate choice. He will turn his eyes and his thoughts away from the confusion of his own heart, and towards the Lord: “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.”

In other words, when the present made no sense, he anchored his soul in the past. He fixed his eyes on the mighty acts of God throughout history. And what he recalled was no small thing. He remembered the Red Sea, when God split the waters and made a path through the depths. He remembered the wilderness, when God fed His people with bread from heaven and gave them water from the rock. He remembered how their clothes did not wear out, nor did their feet swell for forty years in a barren land. He remembered the presence of the mighty God of Israel looming in the midst of the people. Moses and Aaron were only his servants, through whom God led his people like a flock.

And as his thoughts dwelt on these great works of God, his despair began to lift. His questions did not vanish, but they were reframed in the light of God’s proven faithfulness.

That is what Carey did too. Standing before the smoldering ruins of his work, he remembered the sustaining hand of God throughout the past days, not just of his own life but those of his fathers. The God who called him to India had already led him safely through many trials. He would not forsake his servant now. And so he began again.

We need to learn this lesson. Amidst the ashes of broken dreams, fractured relationships, financial loss, illness, or grief, our unbelief can so easily spiral into despair. If we focus on our sorrow, it will consume us. But like Asaph, like Carey, let us lift our eyes and remember the years of God’s power. Let us remember the wonderful deliverance of the Lord, how he redeemed us from certain death. How he led us through impossible situations. How faithful he has been in our lives.

And above all, remember the cross, the greatest deed of all, where God’s love was displayed beyond question and His promises sealed forever.

This does not mean the pain disappears. Carey still had to labor again through long years of translation. Asaph’s circumstances remained grim. And yet, both discovered a new strength when they gazed on the light of God’s faithfulness instead of their present darkness.

What do we focus on in our own dark days? Do we dwell on the questions without answers, the silence that feels unbearable, the ashes of what is lost? Or will you, like Asaph and Carey, make the choice to remember?

Let us cry out to Him with honesty and raw emotions. But let us not stop there. Let memory be our guide. Let us recall the ways in which he has provided, the many times he has carried you and the promises he has kept with utmost faithfulness. Let us document them, in writing if need be. Let us share them with others.

And in remembering, our faith will be strengthened to trust Him again. The night may still linger, longer than our wish. But the God who split the sea, who shepherded His people in the wilderness, who raised Jesus from the dead, is still God today. And He has engraved you on the palms of His hands.

So in our dark days, let us never let despair have the final word. Focus on the wondrous deeds of the Lord. Let His past faithfulness brighten your present darkness, until hope rises again in your heart. God bless.