Wilderness Wanderings

Return home, my daughters; I am too old to have another husband. Even if I thought there was still hope for me—even if I had a husband tonight and then gave birth to sons—would you wait until they grew up? Would you remain unmarried for them? No, my daughters. It is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord's hand has turned against me!" (Ruth 1:12-13).

What a place for hope to show up! It's the first time we find it in the Bible. And its not hopeful.

Here's the story in a nutshell. Naomi and her husband fled famine in their hometown of Bethlehem (house of bread) in Judah. It was an act of disobedience to the God of Israel. Famine was understood as an act of judgement. God had said through both Moses and Joshua that obedience would lead to flourishing and disobedience to judgement, famine being close to the top of the list of God's punishments.

However, judgement and punishments were also God's call to his people to return to him. But Naomi and her husband, instead of returning to God in obedience, ran away from him. They landed in Moab where their two sons married Moabite women. Also acts of disobedience, because non-Jewish people were bound to lead their Jewish spouses away from God.

Naomi's husband and her sons die. They are buried in Moab. According to her cultural norms, Naomi has nothing left. When she hears that there is food again in her homeland she decides to return, destitute. As she says, "Don't call me Naomi, which means pleasant, but Mara, which means bitter" (1:20).

As she leaves Moab, her two daughters-in-law decide to trek along. But she discourages them with the words of our text. 'There is no hope for me,' she says, 'don't pin your future on me, because there is nothing for me.'

Hopeless.

Maybe we wouldn't dare put it as strongly as Naomi. Yet, many of us have had such feelings: loss of all sorts causes hopelessness to well up in us. We have had a sense of what Naomi is expressing.

But Naomi had it wrong. Her life was not hopeless. Why not? Because God was still around. The beauty of Naomi's story is that God is in the shadows. He doesn't do anything on page. He is only referred to in the common greetings among the Israelites: "The Lord be with you!" "The Lord bless you!" Its like he's hiding in the corners, hidden by shadows.

But he is there. And he's at work. At the end of the story Naomi bounces a grandson on her lap. And that grandson becomes an ancestor of Jesus Christ. God saved Naomi from bitterness, enabling her to laugh again. Sarai once laughed in disbelief; Naomi's laughter is filled with newfound faith and hope.

I'm reminded of Psalm 126, "Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, 'The Lord has done great things for them.' Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them (Psalm 126:2, 6).

Jesus is our Saviour: he takes our bitterness and fills our mouths with laughter. He is our hope. Noami's story is given to encourage our faith, to fill us with hope. It reminds us that God has never failed his promise to be with his people. So, lets look in the corners and the shadows to find God at work. Let's see how God is our hope.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm. May your day end with rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you. May you rest in his provision as he brings night, and then new dawn.

The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he founded it on the seas and established it on the waters. Who may ascend the mountain of the LORD? Who may stand in his holy place? The one who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not trust in an idol or swear by a false god. They will receive blessing from the LORD and vindication from God their Savior. Such is the generation of those who seek him, who seek your face, God of Jacob. Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. (Psalm 24:1-8)

As Christians reading this Psalm today, you can hear the themes of Creation, Fall, and Redemption flow through it. The Lord founds the world and everything in it. The people seek him, and yet the question remains whether they can stand in his presence. Do we have clean hands and a pure heart, free from idolatry? Probably not. But God is victorious, he wins the battle and the gates lift themselves up to accommodate his glory as he enters the sanctuary.

Even though the Israelites did not know Jesus, they may actually not have heard this psalm in such a different way, because since the Exodus God was a God of salvation and redemption to them. He was the one who had redeemed them from their slavery and saved them from their enemies countless times since.

But because this Psalm knows the King who redeems, it changes the whole understanding of who may ascend his mountain and stand in his presence. Psalms like this one were sung in worship, and so it wasn't an entrance exam before being allowed into the sanctuary. It was a rehearsal of all that God had done for his people and an invitation to live worthy of this God they had come to worship: the Lord of Creation, and victorious King of Redemption.

The popular worship song that's now fairly dated, but still sung, gets the sense just right: "Give us clean hands, give us pure hearts, let us not lift our souls to another." God has saved his people: and as we seek to live worthily in light of his salvation, we recognize that God will need to continue saving us if we're ever to meet the bar.

But that's exactly what our God does. He comes to us to save us. This is the work of Christ, but it is also the work of the Spirit that continually sanctifies us: makes us holy and conforms us to Christ. In the presence of our God, we are made more and more to be the kind of people fit for his presence.

So let the King of Glory come! Let the doors and gates of our hearts and our sanctuaries lift themselves up to accommodate his great glory, power, and strength. And when the time is ripe—at the consummation of the ages—let our world do the same, that the King of glory may come in. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

Sing joyfully to the Lord, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him. For... (Psalm 33:1, 4a)

The opening part of the worship services in many Christian congregations includes "a call to worship". Most often this is a passage of scripture like the beginning of Psalm 33. These verses are like invitations that cannot be declined. They call us to worship God and they give us reasons why we ought to do so.

This is an important component of Christian faith and spirituality. It is true that worship is multi-faceted and singing "joyfully to the Lord" is only one facet. Yet, this invitation comes to all God's people, even to those who do not feel like it; maybe, especially to those who do not feel like "singing joyfully to the Lord."

Jesus tells us that we need to approach God in "spirit and truth". He says that true worshippers of God come this way (John 4:24). This means we need to acknowledge before him that we are currently finding joy difficult.

There are so many reasons why joy alludes us: wars and rumours of wars; politicians promising much while delivering lies and deceit; broken families; homelessness; addictions; a loved one dies; Christians dividing the church again.

But Psalm 33 is a balm for the distressed soul. It does not tell us to come and sing joyfully because we feel like it. It tells us to come because "the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does" (4).

A significant reason why the church gathers to worship the Lord our God is "to remember." Life in this world is difficult. We come battered and bruised to our weekly Christian reunions. Often, we batter and bruise each other. Life causes our faith to weaken, our hope to get dented and our love to dim. By the time Sunday dawns, we are all mixed up, scratched, and confused.

Therefore, we gather to remember. We remember who our God is as we recount the things He has done and the promises he has kept. As we remember, our faith is renewed, our hope is varnished, and our love is strengthened.

No one is sure of the context in which Psalm 33 was first composed and sung. Verse 20 suggests that Israel may have been in some difficulty. The psalm was used to renew the hope of God's people.

There is value for Christians to sing joyfully before the Lord when they are all alone. Yet, worship is naturally a communal activity. Partying alone is, well, lonely. God uses our communal worship to renew those who are dented and banged up. Worshipping God together ought also to renew fellowship.

Psalm 33 sings of three things about God: He is large and in charge, He is everywhere and always here; and He is passionate for those who look to Him in faith.

Through worship we renew our faith that God is able to weave all the circumstances of our lives together to create a wonderful tapestry that accomplishes His purposes. We see this most thoroughly in Jesus' life. He was able to endure the cross because of the joy set before Him (Hebrews 12:2). In baptism our lives are wrapped up in His destiny. In worship, we remember.

So, people of God, gather and worship our great God together. Whose knows what he has in store for us.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. (Psalm 22:1-2)

I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. You who fear the LORD, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help. (Psalm 22:22-24)

Many of us hear and immediately recognize the opening words of this Psalm as the words of Jesus from the cross. But before they were Jesus' words, they were Israel's. Psalm 22 was a prayer regularly read or sung in worship that had been sincerely prayed by many who felt abandoned and afflicted by God.

In his death on the cross then, Jesus is not only shouting out his own experience of forsakenness, but is also identifying himself with the forsaken: with all those who have prayed this prayer to God—from the time of its writing right up to the present day. For, as the book of Hebrews tells us, "we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses…"

Many of our lives will include moments when we feel forsaken by our God. When a loved one dies, for instance, or when a painful situation rips through our family. And of course there are many others in our world on the margins who may feel that forsakenness far more often.

The existence of this prayer of forsakenness and the identification of Jesus with it tells us that it is a perfectly faithful expression of faith to ask God why he's absent and why he has abandoned us in those times when it feels like he has. We don't have to keep a stiff upper lip or grin and bear it. We can be honest and raw with God. He's big enough to handle our hurt.

We know that to be true because of watching Jesus' own suffering. The Father did not ultimately abandon Jesus to the grave. But rather vindicated him, raised him from the grave to new life: a new life that we will share in also.

Psalm 22 takes a similar turn. Mid-way through, a declaration of praise rings through the despair. Why? Because God does not and has not ultimately scorned the suffering of the afflicted one. God has not ultimately hidden his face, but instead has turned, listened, and delivered.

Jesus himself is the promise that the prayer of forsakenness never goes unheard. He comes to us to minister to us still today, finding us wherever we may be and saying: "I hear you, I understand, and I am here."

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and My Redeemer" (Psalm 19:14).

Like me, many of you have likely heard this verse prayed during a worship service. Preachers will pray it just before they begin their sermon. It is a good practice; I've done it many times myself. We preachers will also pray such a prayer when we are in our studies preparing sermons or devotions.

But have you ever prayed this prayer? I assume most of you are not preachers, yet I ask you this question. Have you prayed this prayer for yourself? How often have you asked the Holy Spirit to sanctify 'the words of your mouth and the meditations of your heart so that they are pleasing to God'?

It is unlikely that this psalm was originally prayed by a preacher. The NIV editors ascribe it to David. The psalm headings are not considered part of the inspired Word of God; thus, we readily admit they might be wrong. Still, this psalm is included in Israel's song book to be prayed by all, including all of us. That includes you.

How did the psalmist come to give voice to this prayer? Let's take a quick look. This song can easily be divided into three stanzas. The first, verses 1-6, is a magnificent poem detailing how the natural world exudes with the glory of God.

The Belgic Confession, Article 2, teaches us that the creation is one of the two ways that we get to know God. It takes its cue from Psalm 19. We can learn much of God's grandeur, greatness, creativity, and providential care if we spend time in God's creation, observing it.

We can easily imagine, David the shepherd, alone at night with his father's sheep mesmerized by the moon and stars and in the morning watching as the sun creeps over the horizon warming the air.

The second part of the prayer, verses 7-10, takes delight in the spoken and written words of God which give direction for living in covenant relationship with the Lord. This psalmist recognized that there are different ways in which we might live. Moral choices must constantly be made. The psalmist declares that God's ways are the absolute best.

Moreover, these words are life, they are refreshing like cool streams of water. They give guidance among the confusing choices of the day and reassurance for the fretting which interrupts our sleep. They offer forgiveness and the courage to forgive. God's kindness is on display moving us towards mercy.

Having feasted on God's glory displayed in God's creation and in God's word, the psalm concludes with a personal reflection on these two great sources of info on God. This composer wants her life to measure up to God's standard. Notice, it is only after she has spent time with both God's creation and Word that she moves to this conclusion. I highly recommend the psalmist's pattern.

We are invited to stand in awe of God. Not just of God's greatness and majesty, but also of God's mercy and grace. We can ask for forgiveness and the grace to lead a blameless life. Surely this is a prayer that we all ought to pray.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

To you, Lord, I called; to the Lord I cried for mercy: "What is gained if I am silenced, if I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me; Lord, be my help." You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. Lord my God, I will praise you forever. (Psalm 30:8-12)

Jesus said of his disciples at the time of his triumphal entry: "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." Praise is a necessary aspect of being human. It is so fundamental, in fact, that psalm 30 uses it as a reason for the Lord to intervene with mercy. For who praises God from the grave?

Harkening back to some earlier psalms, there is a realization that the silence of God toward us can feel like death. But psalm 30 suggests that our silence is also significant. Our participation in giving voice to the praises of God is essential to life.

And so the psalmist cries out for mercy not by making any claim to their own goodness or deserving, but rather to the silence that results when a faithful person no longer proclaims the saving work of the Lord in praise. Because that is a loss of the necessary vitality of life and a diminishment of the glory that is due to God. So will God not step in with mercy and help so that his very own mission in this world and through his people may go on?

Jesus expands this notion beyond where the psalm does: not only is human praise necessary to life, but the praise of God is a necessary work of all of creation—including the dust and the stones.

We, together with everything else in the world, are created to give thanks. We are created to tell good stories of God's faithfulness, provision, and salvation. We are created to point back to God in all that we say and all that we do. We are created to witness to God through our words of praise and our grateful living that is ever more fully conformed to the likeness of Christ. This is the mission of God that continues and broadens in the work of Jesus.

Psalm 30, therefore, is deep at the heart and foundation of everything it means to be a person of faith. Not only because it places witness and praise of God at the heart of human life, but also because it tells the story of God's faithfulness in that praise.

God does save. He does bring from death to life. He does turn our wailing into dancing, clothes us with joy, and transforms our silence into singing. Not merely so that we can sing his praises, but so that we might know, deeply and personally, the song of God that is ours to sing!

And as we do: all creation joins, and all the world listens in as the mission of God in Christ goes forward into the world in the power of the Spirit.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

Give praise to the Lord. He showed me his wonderful love when my enemies attacked the city I was in. I was afraid and said, "I've been cut off from you!" But you heard my cry for your favor. You heard me when I called out to you for help (Psalm 31:22-23).

"All prayer is prayed in a story, by someone who is in the story...Spiritualized prayer is denatured prayer, prayer in which all the dirt and noise of ordinary life is boiled out" (Eugene Peterson, Answering God 47, 49).

I think we might pray too often. Now, before you call for me to be defrocked, let me explain. As I was growing up, our family gathered around the table three times a day for meals. No meal began without prayer and no meal ended without it. They were all about the same length and the content was similar.

The greatest variation was on Sunday mornings. Breakfast would end with a longer prayer than usual. As children, we knew to settle in for the long ride. These were good rhythms for us.

But there was also a routineness that led to a lack of engagement. The words were being said, but the mind and heart were elsewhere. This is the problem Peterson identified: our prayers are somehow separated from the life we live. Faith and prayer become an add on to life. Something perfunctory.

This same problem sometimes surfaces in our Sunday worship. I hear people talk about leaving the business of the week at the door to worship God without all that stuff cluttering our spirits.

I believe that God wants us to bring all that stuff into our prayers and worship. What else did Jesus mean when He said to the Samaritan woman that God's worshippers "must worship in Spirit and in truth" (John 4:24)? How can we worship God in truth if we our hiding our lives from Him?

Seventy-three of the psalms are linked to David. We know a lot about him. The Bible records stories of David as a boy, a teen, an adult, and an old man. He is shepherd, soldier, outlaw, and king. He is son, brother, husband, and father. He is wondrously obedient and disastrously disobedient.

The stories tell us about him, but his prayers tell his inner story. They show his passions and fears, his longings, and his revulsions. Read Psalm 31 and identify all the inner workings of David's soul. Note all the things it tells us about him.

Jesus tells us that prayer is not meant for long recitations of empty expressions (Matthew 6:5-15). Rather, it begins, "Our Father who is in heaven..." When we pray in Spirit and in truth, the story of our lives is enfolded into the story of God our Father.

Prayer should expand our lives, laying their insignificance and their significance before God so He can shape and deepen them. It is about ex-changing false gods for the God of the Bible; admitting our idolatry and longing to pray to God alone.

It is not really that we pray too often but that our prayers are not about our lives. So, if your prayers have become routine, do something about it. Change the way you prepare to pray. Let your prayers be honest, speaking to God from your heart about your life.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. (Psalm 20:7)

We are always and everywhere tempted to believe that salvation comes by our own accomplishment. By the work of our hands we establish ourselves and provide for ourselves and our families. By our own firm stands we defend ourselves, our family, and our institutions.

And, there's something to that notion. We do have things we need to do to get in on the action of God—we do have callings and things that we're equipped for by him, things that we do out of a grateful response.

But there's an important caveat. Quite a big one, in fact, upon which the whole goodness of the good news of the Gospel rests, and it's this: that our trust finally rests not in our own work, but in God's.

It is a super simple principle, but we get it wrong all the time. The Old Testament is littered with examples, especially through the history of the books of Samuel and Kings. Subtly, slowly, the people would again find themselves believing—first through their actions and then through their hearts—that if salvation from their enemies or struggles did not come by their own hands it would not come at all: which is the same as confessing no god at all. We first live, practically and pragmatically, like there is no god and then eventually our mind and hearts catch up with our lived confession.

It can happen in so many different ways. It happens in the usual ways we might think of, certainly. We stop going to church and participating in the life of the Christian community, or we become addicted to a particular sin. But it happens in far more subtle, everyday ways too that may pass our gaze and impact each of us in ways that might surprise us.

For instance, when Christians fight with one another. To keep a conflict healthy and fight fair and Christianly is no easy task, which means that fighting is a high-risk activity. When our passions stir, it is easy to allow less-than-Christian means into our actions for the sake of winning the day: things like self-righteousness, pride, malice, factions, lovelessness, slander, manipulation of people or process, gossip, anger, and more. Each of these are examples of trusting in ourselves rather than entrusting ourselves to God: just a different version of chariots and horses.

Our confession of faith is different though: that while some trust in chariots, some in horses, some in gossip, some in control: we are continually called to trust in the name of the Lord our God, who in Jesus has come and won the final victory—the only victory we will ever need. Our salvation along with the salvation of the church are found in him.

How might you live out—concretely—that trust in Christ today?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

"The king rejoices in your strength, Lord. How great is his joy in the victories you give! You have granted him the desire of his heart, and not withheld the request of his lips" (Psalm 21:1, 2).

Psalm 21 is a victory song. It is not difficult to imagine the people of Israel singing these words as David returned victorious from battle. The day is perfect for Israel: king and people are following the Lord and rejoicing in his blessings of victory.

Notice how the victory clearly belongs to God. It was asked for by the king; it was a desire of his heart. But the song recognizes that only God is responsible for the defeat of the enemy. The psalm exudes trust and confidence in God.

Notice also that the enemies haven't got a chance. The singers are totally convinced God is stronger than all his enemies, and thus, the enemies of God's people, our enemies. While they wither away, the king's days are lengthened, even, for ever and ever (4).

Of course, David did not live forever. Peter says at Pentecost that David's tomb is there for all to see. Like in Psalm 16, we understand that this phrase refers to the promise that David will have a descendent on Israel's throne forever.

This means the psalm is about more than David coming home victorious from battle. It holds notes that will become the resounding chorus of Easter and Ascension. This victory over Israel's enemies is only a small foretaste, an appetizer, if you will, of Christ's victory over his enemies on the cross. It hints at Paul's conclusion in Colossians 2, "Having disarmed the powers and authorities, [Jesus] made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross" (15). As such, the psalm gives content for our praises in the days of Easter and Ascension. The church worships each Sunday to celebrate Easter.

It is reasonable to think that this psalm sustained Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem and the cross. Perhaps he meditated on these very words as he was delivered into the hands of sinful people. Even as he bore the sins of the world on the tree, he trusted in the steadfast love of God to raise him up in power three days later.

After passing through death on our behalf, Jesus was met with rich blessings, greeted by throngs of worshipping angels, crowned with glory and honour because of the suffering of death (Hebrews 2:9). This is a psalm for a vindicated Messiah.

Can we hear the ascended and exalted Christ praising his Father on the other side of the empty tomb? Can we hear, as Jesus sat down at the Father's right hand, the angels praising God, "The king rejoices in your strength, Lord. How great is his joy in the victories you give!"

There is more here for us. We can have confidence today that our enemies will not overwhelm us because Christ has prayed for us. His hearts desire is that all those whom the Father had given to him may be with him where he is, to see him in his glory (cf. John 17:24). God will give his Son his heart's desire and will not withhold the request of his lips. Our future is guaranteed.

Paul affirms this in his letter to the Ephesians writing, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ" (1:3). And later, "And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus" (2:6-7).

We cannot imagine the joy that awaits us when God's redemption is complete. Psalm 21 whets our appetite, invites us to live in expectation of what awaits us, and in the meanwhile, to sing God's praise.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

To you, LORD, I call; you are my Rock, do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit. … The LORD is the strength of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one. Save your people and bless your inheritance; be their shepherd and carry them forever. (Psalm 28:1,8-9)

One of the most difficult realities of the Christian life is the experience of the apparent silence of God. We don't talk about it much, but it is a pervasive experience that most of us know. The fact that we don't talk about it can leave us with the impression that we are somehow alone in this: feeling abandoned while everyone else sings their heart out in worship. It can also leave us feeling like we are somehow guilty of something or unfaithful: we can blame ourselves.

But the psalmist and all the Israelites who prayed this prayer through the ages knew all about the experience of God's silence. And together in community, they claimed it as part of the life of faith. In praying prayers like psalm 28, they declared to God and with one another that it is not always because of our sin or unfaithfulness that we fail to hear from God. Sometimes it is, but not always. There are times when God is simply silent.

Now, to say that it is a common experience is not to say that it is a pleasant one. The psalm cries out to God: "if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit." In other words, the experience of silence and separation from God feels like death. Which is perhaps why Paul in Thessalonians imagines hell in these terms: an eternal separation from God. Because to be separated from God is hell. It feels like death. And the experience of God's silence can feel eerily similar.

But the life of faith is not only valleys. There are also mountaintops. And this is where the psalm closes. The Lord is strength and salvation: a God who blesses, shepherds, and carries his people forever.

In that last line there are echoes of the famous "footprints" poem, which perhaps helps to tie these two threads together. At the end of life's journey a person asks God why he was absent for long stretches—why she looks back and sees only one set of footprints in the sand—to which God replies: "it was then that I carried you."

God's apparent silence and absence is a common experience, but it is not an accurate barometer of reality. Our God is a God who carries his people forever. A God of salvation and strength. In those mountaintop moments we know this to be true. But in the valleys where we aren't so sure, we need to continue praying prayers like psalm 28 together so that we can remember these truths again and believe, despite what our eyes do not see and our ears do not hear.

May God continue to save his people and bless his inheritance, being our shepherd who carries us forever and who breaks those moments of apparent silence so that we might have life.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.