He Hears Our Groaning

In my counseling work, I hear hard stories and the groaning of counselees in the face of significant hardship. When I meet with friends for coffee, I hear of trials and tribulations, of sorrows and fears. In my own life, I weep and groan over losses and cry out to God for help and wisdom in uncertain times. I’m sure I’m not alone in this. We all groan over life lived in a fallen world that is filled with pain and sorrow and perhaps we wonder, does God hear our groaning? Does he hear our cries for help?

In Psalm 12, David experienced difficult circumstances. Just as in other psalms, David comes to God in lament because of his enemies. In this psalm, we see him experience verbal oppression by his enemies. “Save, O LORD, for the godly one is gone; for the faithful have vanished from among the children of man. Everyone utters lies to his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak” (v. 1-2). It seems as though everyone is out for themselves; there is no one who cares to speak the truth. He describes the way in which people lie to one another as “flattering lips and a double heart.” The Hebrew word for “flattery” here is chelqah, a word used to describe division of land. The reference to a “double heart” refers to someone who is not honest about their true intentions. They cover up who they really are with flattery; they don’t reveal their true heart. In their use of flattery, they divide who they are with false pretenses. In doing so, they believe they are powerful (v.4).

David brings his complaint to the Lord in lament and God hears his cries. God responds: “Because the poor are plundered, because the needy groan, I will now arise,” says the LORD; “I will place him in the safety for which he longs” (v. 5). God hears the groans of his people and does something about it.

Charles Spurgeon wrote concerning this passage:

“We are not the first persons who have had reason to complain of the evils by which we are surrounded. But see the power that there is in the sorrows of God’s children to touch the heart of their great Father when he hears their groaning. When those sorrows come to be so bitter that the sufferers can scarcely pray, when they cannot find any language in which to express their grief, when even their desires seem to fail and they are so broken down and made so weak by the various troubles that have crushed them that it comes to just this groaning and nothing more, then God cannot be still. He must get up. He may have hidden his face before, but now he sees that the time has come to manifest his unchanging love and grace.”

In redemptive history, we see God respond to the groans of his people. In Exodus 2, Moses writes about God’s people groaning because of their slavery in Egypt: “the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew” (Ex. 2:23-25). God heard. God remembered. God saw. God knew. When it says “God remembered” it is a covenantal remembering. He acts for his people based on his covenant promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Because of his covenant promises, he delivered his people from Egypt and brought them to the Promised Land.

How much more so will God hear, remember, see, and know when we cry out to him in our troubles? After all, on this side of redemptive history, we see the fulfillment of God’s covenant promises in the person and work of Jesus Christ. We see God answer the heart cries of his people by providing the perfect, spotless lamb—the true and final sacrifice for sin. We see God provide a Savior, One who saved us from sin and brought us back into right relationship with God. Unlike those who speak falsehood in Psalm 12, God’s words are pure words (Ps. 12:6). They are words we can trust. They are words which always come to pass. This means we can expect God to hear and respond to our groanings, because he has bound us to himself through the Son.

Paul wrote in Romans 8 that when we don’t have the words to cry out to God, the Spirit himself groans on our behalf: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (vv. 26-27). When the pains and sorrows of life mute us, there is One who stands before God on our behalf, speaking for us. What grace!

So, does God hear the groans of his people? He does indeed. As David wrapped up his psalm, “You, O LORD, will keep them; you will guard us from this generation forever” (v.7). While life in a fallen world brings great sorrow, and while evil continues to prowl upon the earth, God will keep his people forever.

He hears. He remembers. He sees. He knows.

Photo by Krists Luhaers on Unsplash

He Knows Our Sorrows

Have you ever watched a television series or a movie that was a real tear jerker? Maybe it was something that everyone raved about and then you watch it and afterward felt like you’d experienced emotional whiplash. When that happens to me, I then want to go back to that friend who recommended it and ask, “Why did you do that to me?”

It’s not as though I don’t like tear jerkers; I’m just not always emotionally ready to watch something that will make me cry. I like to be prepared beforehand to know I am going to walk away from a television show or movie feeling emotionally exhausted.

If only we had such a choice in real life. If only we could choose the time and date when we are emotionally prepared to experience something heavy and hard. If only we could push pause on difficult times of life or better, change the channel all together.

We know all too well that real life is not like that. All too often, the sorrows of life come upon us when we least expect it. And there’s no pushing pause or changing the channel. That’s because life in a fallen world is hard. We experience loss and heartache and trial on the regular. Jesus himself said that we would have troubles and sorrows in this world (Jn. 16:33). Peter instructed us to not be surprised by trials when they come (1 Pet. 4:12).

While the hardships of real life are nothing like watching them unfold on a movie screen, we do have a compassionate Savior who knows and understands the sorrows we bear. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Our Savior knew well the grief and fear, hardship and poverty, rejection and injustice, temptation and loneliness we face in this fallen world (Heb. 2:17).

Jesus Christ was born not in a castle, but in a stable. His parents were not royalty; his father was a poor carpenter. He was rejected by the people of his own hometown. John tells us that Jesus knew grief as he wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus. He was betrayed by Judas, mere hours after he washed his feet. On the night before he was arrested, he cried out to the Father in lament, asking that the cup be taken from him, all the while trusting in his Father’s will. As he anticipated what was to come, his agony was so great, he sweat drops of blood. HIs friends then went on to abandon him at his darkest hour. Upon his arrest, he was mocked, beaten, and crucified for our sins. Isaiah sums up the sufferings of our Savior well: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Is. 53:4-5).

The fact that our Savior knows what it is to suffer life in a fallen world is important; it reminds us that he was both fully human and divine. In his humanity, he had to experience suffering to become a perfect sacrifice in our place. John Calvin wrote, “Certainly those who imagine that the Son of God was exempt from human passions do not truly and sincerely acknowledge him to be a man.” He also cautioned, “if we are ashamed that Christ should experience fear and sorrow, our redemption will perish and be lost.” The fact that Jesus felt such intense emotions should encourage us in our own sorrows for we have a Savior who understands our pain—so much so, he was willing to bear the weight of sin to set us free.

Friends, we are not alone. We have a Savior who has gone before us. We have a Savior who knows and understands and cares for all our sorrows. The psalmist wrote that God keeps a count of all our tears; he stores them in a bottle; they are recorded in his book (Ps. 56:8).

Our sorrows matter to God.

What then are we to do with our sorrows? We do what Jesus did: we bring them to God in prayer. We lament. We cry out to the God who hears us. “In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears” (Ps. 18:6). And he hears us because of Jesus Christ. Through faith in the Son’s work on our behalf, we are brought into the family of God. He are adopted as his children; we belong to him. This means we have full rights and free access to the Father; there are no barriers that keep us from him. “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16).

It’s true: real life is nothing like it is in the movies; it’s harder. We can’t walk out when we don’t like a particular scene. We can’t push pause until we are ready to engage. But what’s far better is having a perfect Savior who has gone before us. A Savior who knows our cares. A Savior who has born our sorrows. Let us cry out to the One who hears and cares for all our sorrows.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Talking About 9/11 With Our Children

Have you ever been asked, “Where were you when . . . ?”

As a child, I heard countless stories of my grandfather’s days in the U.S. Army, marching across Europe in World War II, and how the Lord protected him on D-Day.

My mother often shared her memories of hiding under a school desk during Cold War bomb drills, or of watching TV coverage of the moon landing in 1969. And every one of my parents’ generation can tell me where they were the day President Kennedy was assassinated.

I’m now old enough to have stories and memories of where I was when something significant or tragic happened in the world.

On September 11, 2001, I was leading a group counseling session with students at an alternative school when a coworker knocked on the door, pulled me aside, and told me planes had flown into the Twin Towers in New York. It’s a date I’ll never forget.

With the 20-year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approaching, many of us will spend time recalling that day. We’ll remember where we were, what we felt and thought, what we saw and experienced. We’ll remember the lives lost and the heroes who sacrificed their lives for the sake of others. We’ll remember our national grief and our righteous anger in response to the horrors of that day.

As we do, though, there will be children around us who don’t remember. My children were not yet born on 9/11. To them, it’s a national tragedy, one they read about in the final pages of their history books in school. It’s like the stories I heard as a child of those world wars or of JFK’s assassination—one they don’t have an emotional connection to because they weren’t there.

How can we talk to our children about that day?… to read the rest of this post, visit The Gospel Coalition where I am writing today.

A Broken and Contrite Heart

“Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!” Psalm 51:2

I don’t now about you, but my first response to sin in my life is to minimize it. I look for ways to lesson my responsibility. Someone else made me angry and that’s why I responded the way I did. I was sick or tired or simply don’t remember doing anything wrong. Or how about this one: what I did is not as bad as what someone else did. In all these ways and more, I attempt to justify my actions, to make my sin seem like a good thing, when it is actually far from it.

In Psalm 51, we get a glimpse into the heart of a sinner, King David. The prophet Nathan confronted David for his sin against Bathsheba and his immediate response wasn’t to self-justify himself. He didn’t try to minimize his sin or look for someone else on which to lay the blame. He didn’t even come up with some method to rehabilitate himself; rather, he simply said, “I have sinned against the LORD” (2 Samuel 12:13). He then penned Psalm 51, a lament in which he confessed his sin to the Lord. This psalm then became a hymn for God’s people.

There is much we can learn from David’s psalm about confession of sin. Even more, it can help shape our own prayers of confession.

Trust in God’s steadfast love and mercy: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (v.1). At the start of this psalm, David turned in humble reliance upon God’s covenant love and mercy. These are characteristics of God found throughout Scripture, linked with his identity as the Great I AM (see Ex. 34:6-7). This is the truth we too must rest in when we cry out to the Lord and seek his forgiveness for sin. We come before One who is unchanging in his steadfast love and mercy. The same God who walked past Moses as he hid behind a rock is the same God who hears our prayers today. The same God to whom David turned in prayer, is the same God we turn to today—full of steadfast love and mercy.

Our sin is against God: Though David’s sin was against Bathsheba and her husband Uriah, it was ultimately a sin against a holy and righteous God. “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (v.4). We must remember that all our sin is against God. Even one sin, no matter how small it may seem, is an affront to One who is holy pure. When we have sinned, it is important that we call it what it is. That we name it. That we don’t minimize or excuse it, but confess it.

Salvation is found in God alone: Only God can cleanse us from our sin. “Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin… Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow… Deliver me from the guilt of bloodshed, O God, you who are God my Savior” (vv. 2, 7, 14). In David’s day, atonement for sin was made through the sacrificial system, one that had to be repeated over and over. On this side of redemptive history, forgiveness and salvation is found in Jesus Christ. Through faith in his perfect life, sacrificial death, and triumphant resurrection, we are cleansed from sin and made righteous. There is nowhere we can turn for life and hope but in Jesus. No one else can rescue us but the perfect Lamb of God. As much as humanity might like to think otherwise, there is no other solution, plan, or remedy available to us. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn. 14:6).

Our sin is a barrier between us and God: David refers to this barrier in Psalm 51, “Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me” (vs. 11-12). Ever since our first parents sinned and were cast out of the Garden, there has been a barrier between us and God. Jesus came to tear down this barrier. He came to bring us back into right relationship with the One who made us. And in removing this barrier, we now have full access to the throne of grace, where we can come to God in confidence and receive the grace and help we need (Heb. 4:16).

God cleanses us and makes us new: In this lament, David asks for cleansing: “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (v.10). Not only does David want forgiveness, he wants to be cleansed; he wants to be washed clean from his sin. We have to be made right before we can come into God’s presence, for only those who are holy can stand before him. In Christ, we are new creations. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). What amazing grace!

God wants our broken and contrite hearts: “You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise” (vv.16-17). We bring nothing to the throne of grace but our broken and contrite hearts. We come to God just as we are. We do so through the sacrifice of Christ, wrapped in his robes of righteousness. When we’ve sinned, it is good and right to come to the Lord in lament for our sin, bringing him our broken and contrite hearts. That is a sacrifice he delights in.

Our response to this grace is a heart that rejoices. Anyone who encounters God’s amazing grace— who has been forgiven, cleansed, and made right with God— can’t help but response in praise to the One who made it so. “Restore to me the joy our your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit” (v.12). “O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise” (v. 15). When we’ve confessed our sin and appropriated the gospel of Jesus Christ to our heart and experience God’s grace and forgiveness anew, we respond in praise and thanksgiving. We rejoice at the goodness of God.

David sinned against Bathsheba and rightly felt the sting of conviction. His guilt weighed on him, so much so, that it felt like broken bones (v.8). When we too feel the pain of conviction for sin, may we be quick to run to our Father in prayer. May we come to him in humility and honesty, with complete confidence, knowing that our loving, merciful God forgives us through the cleansing blood of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

On Lament, Psalm 142, and this Current Crisis

How are you feeling these days? This crisis is bringing up many difficult emotions for all of us. It certainly is for me. Throughout the day, I find myself hop-scotching from worry to loneliness to frustration to boredom to discontentment. Some days are better than others. Especially when I don’t allow myself to consider the unknown future.

I am sad for all that my children are missing. I am disappointed by cancelled plans. I am lonely and miss friends and family. I am worried about our health. I grieve the losses many have experienced and will experience in the weeks to come.

The question is: what do I do with all these difficult emotions?

All I know to do is to lament. To lament is to cry out to God, to bring our emotions before him and seek his help. It’s to be raw and honest with the Lord. It’s to verbalize our fears, sorrows, and cares in his presence. It’s to voice our longings, hopes, cares, and dreams. It is to seek his justice, salvation, and provision. It’s to dwell on who he is and what he has done. And it’s to trust and wait and hope for his deliverance.

Psalm 142 is a lament, one written by David while he was on the run from his enemies—likely King Saul. While hiding and fearful for his life, he cried out in prayer to the Lord. It is a prayer that was later turned into a psalm used in Israel’s worship, sung as we do our hymns and praise songs on Sunday morning. This lament is apropos for our time. You might say David was in quarantine, sheltered away not at home, but in a dark and desolate cave.

“With my voice I cry out to the LORD;
with my voice I plead for mercy to the LORD.
I pour out my complaint before him;
I tell my trouble before him”

David brought his emotions and cares to the LORD. He used God’s covenant name, Yahweh, the Great I AM. This is the name God gave Moses at the burning bush and refers to God’s aseity, his eternal self-existence, his sovereignty, and his covenant-keeping presence with his people. David cried out to the God who rules over all things.

“When my spirit faints within me,
you know my way!
In the path where I walk
they have hidden a trap for me.
Look to the right and see:
there is none who takes notice of me;
no refuge remains to me;
no one cares for my soul”

David was weary and worn. His enemies were relentless. It felt like no one could help him; there was no one who even cared. He was abandoned, alone, and afraid. He voiced these troubles in his prayer. He was honest with God. After all, God already knew how David felt and what thoughts were going through his mind. God knew he was stuck in the cave, far from home and from his loved ones. God knew everything that was happening in David’s life. As C.H. Spurgeon commented, “Observe his comfort: he looked away from his own condition to the ever observant, all knowing God: and solaced himself with the fact that all was known to his heavenly Friend. Truly it is well for us to know that God knows what we do not know. We lose our heads, but God never closes his eyes: our judgments lose their balance, but the eternal mind is always clear.”

“I cry to you, O LORD;
I say, “You are my refuge,
my portion in the land of the living.”
Attend to my cry,
for I am brought very low!
Deliver me from my persecutors,
for they are too strong for me!”

David sought God’s help. He asked God to hear his cry and respond. He asked for rescue and deliverance. He asked God to intervene in his life. As he did, David looked to who God is: his refuge and his portion. He humbled himself before the Almighty, the Great I AM, seeking his help and strength.

“Bring me out of prison,
that I may give thanks to your name!
The righteous will surround me,
for you will deal bountifully with me.”

David ended his lament with hope and trust. He hadn’t yet experienced God’s rescue, but he expected God to intervene and help him. He looked forward to rejoining God’s people. He anticipated giving thanks to God for his goodness to him. This is a response of faith. The process of lamenting, of crying out to God, reshaped David’s emotions. In the face of the Great I AM, his lesser fears weakened. He knew God was his refuge and trusted that he would deliver him.

I don’t know about you, but I can relate to David’s emotions. I too am weary and worn. I feel overwhelmed by our current circumstances. Like David, I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck in my home. Like David’s enemies, this illness is also strong and relentless. But as this psalm reminds me, God is greater. He is the Great I AM. Therefore, this crisis will not have the final say.

So, I will do as David did and what God’s people have done for centuries. I will cry out to God in lament. I will pour out my soul before him. I will ask for his help and rescue. And I will trust in who he is: my refuge in times of trouble. “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; you save me from violence” (2 Samuel 22:2-3).

Psalm 51 and A Prayer of Confession

If you’ve read here for even a short while, you likely know how much I love the Psalms. It’s a book I turn to time and time again. The Psalms mirror my heart in so many ways. They remind me of who God is and what he has done. They remind me where to turn when I need refuge. They remind me that God listens to and hears the deepest cries of my heart. And ultimately, they remind me of Jesus, the One who fulfills each of its 150 songs.

One favorite is David’s psalm where he confesses his sin to the Lord. I’ve learned much from David about confession from this and other psalms. He wrote Psalm 51 after the prophet, Nathan, confronted him for his sin with Bathsheba. The psalm is actually a lament, where David cried out to the Lord for forgiveness. He felt conviction for his sin, so much so, if felt to him like that of broken bones (Psalm 51:8).

David identified that his sin with Bathsheba was ultimately a sin against God (v. 4). He turned to the only One who could provide salvation. “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow… Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities… Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation” (vv. 7,9,14). He confessed his sin and sought the Lord’s forgiveness.

Whenever we identify sin in our lives, we need to confess it and receive God’s forgiveness. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). Confession involves honesty. We are honest with ourselves and with God. We freely admit what we’ve done. We don’t excuse it or blame others for it. We don’t call it less than it is. We also don’t merely confess our sin in broad strokes as in “Forgive me of all my sins.” We need to be specific about the sins we’ve committed, both those of commission and omission. In Psalm 32, David wrote, “I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin” (v.5).

Such confession of sin requires humility. We have to humble ourselves before the Lord. We have to recognize that God is God and we are not. We have to rest and rely on his mercy and grace for us in Christ. God poured out his wrath on Christ, the wrath we deserved for sin. In Christ, we are forgiven, justified, and made righteous. In Christ, we know David’s cry has ultimately been fulfilled: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (Psalm 51:1).

David’s prayer of confession can shape our own prayers. May we too come before God in honesty and humility, resting in his love and mercy for us in Christ.

A Prayer of Confession

Father,

I come before you grieved and broken by conviction of sin. I feel the weight of that conviction pressing down on me. I agree with the psalmist that it feels like my bones have been crushed. I feel far from you and desire to return to the joy of in being in your presence.

Against you have I sinned. Every sin is a rejection of you as God. It is treason against the King of the universe. Forgive me for my wayward heart. Forgive me for turning to false loves and for seeking life apart from you. Forgive me for not loving others the way that you have loved me. Forgive me for violating your commands. Forgive me for pride and self-righteousness. Forgive me for not loving you with all my heart, mind, and soul.

Through the blood of Christ shed for me, I ask for forgiveness. I thank you that because of Christ, you look at me and see his blood covering my sin. You also see his righteousness; you see his holy life and credit it to me. And because of Jesus, I am united to his Spirit and he is at work in me. Holy Spirit, help me to turn from my sin. Help me to love you with all of my heart. I pray with the psalmist, “Create in me a clean heart O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10). Cleanse me and make me new. Conform me to your will. Help me to image Christ.

Because of your forgiveness and grace for me in Christ, I pray that I would do as David wrote, “…my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise” (Psalm 51:14-15). May your grace for me compel me to sing your praises and testify of your grace to others.

In Jesus’ name, amen.