If you have your Bible, you can open it to the Book of Psalms—Psalm 121.
We can be truly grateful for every step in life’s journey, can’t we? And the reason is that the Lord sustains His people. He’s not only the one who created us but also the one who directs and guides us every step of the way. That’s something to be really grateful for, isn’t it? But, if you’re going to be grateful, it requires perspective. You can’t truly be grateful unless you’re willing to look back at all that God has done in your life to take care of you.
We’re looking at Psalm 121 this morning. In the previous Psalm, the writer poured out all of his complaints about the difficulties of life. There are a lot of psalms of complaint, aren’t there? The psalmist complains about the people after him. He complains about where life is. He complains about his own sin. The Bible is a very realistic book, isn’t it? It doesn’t cover these things up or sugarcoat them.
The psalmist complains about the deceitful people and the troubles surrounding him. But Psalm 121 takes us a step further. Instead of staying in despair, the psalmist redirects his focus to his hope in God. He recounts why he can be grateful for every step that God leads him through. Let’s look at verse one. My first point is this: How can we be grateful for every step? We need to…
Look to God alone for help & provision
look to God alone for His help and provision. Note the word alone—we need to look to God alone for help and provision. The psalmist says,
“I will lift my eyes to the mountains; where does my help come from?”
The psalmist here is looking to something for help. I found it curious this week, as I was meditating on this, that he begins by saying he’s looking to the hills. He’s looking to the mountaintops. He begins with a declaration of where he turns for help: to the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
But why does he need to make this declaration? Why does he need to say, “I’m going to look to the Lord. I’m going to look to the Lord, not to the mountains”? The more I thought about this, I realized that humanity—all of us—are on a perpetual quest for meaning and purpose, aren’t we? We’re all looking for something in our life that makes us feel like our life is worth living and valuable. But oftentimes, our gaze is misdirected, isn’t it? Oftentimes, we struggle by looking to things that don’t give us what we need in life to fulfill our purpose.
As you look at Psalm 121, realize that Psalms 120 through 135 were sung by ancient Jewish pilgrims as they journeyed to Jerusalem for one of their three annual festivals. Imagine an ancient Jewish man, a family, walking towards Jerusalem, singing this psalm in his heart, rehearsing it.
The setting here is debated. It could be a song for the beginning of the journey. Perhaps he sings it at the moment of arrival, when he finally reaches Jerusalem or the temple. Or it could be that he sings this psalm on the way home after having been at the festival.
But we see here that he looks to the mountains. He says, “I will lift up my eyes to the mountains.” The hills served as a visual cue for hope and worship. As he’s on his way to Jerusalem, he anticipates help from the Lord, who is present there.
It’s not as if the Lord is not present everywhere—He’s God. He’s omnipresent, as the big word goes. He’s everywhere at the same time. But there was a special sense of His presence in Israel. Even more so in Jerusalem. And even more so in the temple. And even more so near the Holy of Holies.
The psalmist looks to the mountains, representing the last leg of a difficult journey. They signal the closeness of God’s temple and the presence of the Lord. He feels that he is getting closer and closer to the presence of God as he looks to these mountains.
I realized as I read this that, although God is everywhere at one time and we’re never absent from the Lord, nonetheless God appoints seasons in the lives of His children when our longing for Him increases in intensity. Every child of God should long for the Lord. But are there not seasons in the Christian life when your longing for the Lord’s presence actually increases in intensity?
Have you ever come through a season in the Christian life where you actually tell the Lord, “I miss you. I miss you. I need to spend time with you”? The psalmist himself in Psalm 42:2 says, “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?” He longs to be with the Lord.
There are occasions in our lives—and you know why? Because God made us for Himself. Augustine famously said, “You made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.”
My friends, the psalmist longs to be close to the Lord. As he looks to the mountains and realizes he’s getting closer to Jerusalem, I also remembered that when this psalm was composed, the hilltops in Israel were commonly used for pagan worship. So, when he says, “I look to the hills” in verse one—“I will lift my eyes up to the mountains”—realize that people in Israel were often lured to worship on the mountaintops at shrines surrounded by sacred groves and sacred prostitutes. These rituals were tied to fertility, satisfaction, and safety.
They often looked to false gods on these mountaintops. As I considered this, I realized perhaps the psalmist sees some of these sacred shrines and recognizes the futility of trusting in them. I mean, the priests of Baal were largely unreliable, and yet people still turned to them and worshiped them. And I thought, isn’t that so much like us? Don’t we often look to things that can’t satisfy us, rather than looking for help from the Lord?
Yet, in their desperation, the people still turned to these avenues of false worship and false gods. They didn’t stop; they still turned to those. And these actions exposed both the emptiness of the promises made by false gods and the misplaced hope of seeking help from them—help they could never deliver.
Don’t we all look to something to affirm that our life has value? Don’t we all look to something to affirm that our life has meaning and purpose—that our day matters? We all do. Think about it: What are you most proud of in your life? The thing you’re most proud to talk about? I would suggest that thing is your god—that’s what you look to for meaning in life.
Think about what part of your life, when you dwell on it, makes you feel free and energized. What preoccupies your thoughts when you’re alone? Where do your thoughts most naturally and instinctively go? My friends, these things can help us identify the idols in our lives—things we look to for hope, things we rely on to tell us, “My life has purpose. My life has meaning.”
What happens if you lose a specific relationship, a role at your job, or a special possession? Would you feel like life is still worth living? Is there something in your life that, if you lost it, would make you feel like your life is worthless—that it’s not worth living anymore? When you’re feeling blue, what do you look to for comfort? What do you look to in order to cheer yourself up?
Friends, these things reflect the idols of our hearts. The psalmist says, “I lift my eyes to the mountains.” Lots of people in Israel looked to the mountains, but not to the Lord. They went up seeking hope in something that never satisfied. And whenever we look to functional replacements for God, we fall into the fraud of idolatry.
Humans perpetually struggle with this, don’t we? Some of us are looking for the approval of another. We live for those words that say, “You’re worth something.” That person has become an idol in our lives. Some of us are looking for professional success. If we can just make our way in this career, we imagine that somehow we’ll find the happiness that makes life worth living. Others look for power or influence. Some of us even find our idols in our family identity. We say, “This is who I am. I’m a part of this family.”
My friends, the psalmist, when he looked up to these hills, not only anticipated that he was getting closer to Jerusalem and the presence of the Lord, but he also recognized that many worshiped false idols on the hilltops of Israel. And so, he says in verse two,
“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”
The longing of the human heart is stilled when we stop searching the world and turn our eyes toward the Lord. When I’m no longer looking at other things outside the Lord, but my heart is satisfied if I have Him and Him alone, my help comes from the Lord. Are you there this morning? If you had nothing else but Jesus, could you joyfully say, “Praise the Lord, I’m okay. I’m better than okay.”
My friend, trusting God as Creator means recognizing that everything we need flows from His hand. The Lord is the Maker of heaven and earth. He made everything. Think about that for a second and just let it sit. What are the ramifications and the implications of what it means that the God of the Bible made everything? Everything! He’s sovereignly in control of all. And if that’s true, then everything you need will flow from His hand, won’t it?
Unlike idols, which are lifeless and powerless, the Creator God has the ability to intervene in your life, to protect you, and to provide what you need—and He longs to do it. “My help comes from the Lord,” says the psalmist. I don’t need to go to the hilltops and look to the prophets of Baal and the Asherahs. I don’t need these false idols. I don’t need their approval. Sure, it might be nice to have, but I’m okay if I don’t have it.
My friends, notice what the psalmist says here. He does not say, “My help comes from the Creator.” I noticed this. He talks about the Lord being the Creator—He made heaven and earth—but he doesn’t say, “My help comes from the Creator.” He says, “My help comes from the Lord.” This is significant because the name Lord translates to the covenant name that God gave to the Israelites to reveal Himself: the Hebrew name Yahweh. It is the covenant name of the Lord, and it signifies that He’s not just another god, but that He is personally related to His people.
This tells you that when you see the name the Lord, it’s personal. Take it personally. “My help comes from the Lord.” He’s not just some distant god that you hope will take notice of your troubles at some point, but He’s really busy, has a lot of prayer requests to answer, and might get to you one day. No, my friends, the Lord is personally connected to His people.
The psalmist is grateful. He’s grateful because, “I lift my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from? My help comes from this God who gives me my breath, who sustains me, who saves me.” That is so important because gratitude flows from recognizing that everything we have comes from the Lord’s hand.
Think about this: you’re not owed another breath on this earth. You were never owed the breath you had to begin with. You weren’t owed your parents. You weren’t owed anything. God, in His grace and mercy, gave it to you. He gave you today. And you sit here today by His mercy and His grace. Gratitude begins when we stop looking elsewhere and turn to the Creator who provides all we need.In what areas of your life have you relied on your own strength instead of thanking God as your sustainer and provider? We all have difficulties in life, don’t we? We’re going to talk about that in the next verse. We all have difficulties. We all trip and fall. But the Lord, in the end, has preserved you, hasn’t He? He’s taken care of you, and we can trust Him. So, look with me at verse three. My third point is this: if we’re going to be grateful for every step, we need to…
Trust God’s providence in every trial
“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber.”
I like hiking. I don’t do it as much as I used to when I was younger, but I enjoy being outdoors and going for a walk in the mountains. Often, I just like going for a walk. Many of us do. Even though I live in the valley—you know, I’m a flatlander—but still, whether you’re walking a steep path or walking in the streets, we know that we have to watch our step, don’t we? Because life is often unpredictable.
And isn’t that also true with our spiritual life? Life is unpredictable, filled with loose stones of temptations, trials, and uncertainty. It makes us uncomfortable. And it only takes falling once to make your life really uncomfortable as you pay attention to your surroundings.
The psalmist here says, “He will not allow your foot to slip.” Now, he’s not saying that the Lord will take away all your troubles in life and that you’ll have a perfectly trouble-free life. He’s certainly not saying that. But what he is saying is that while we may stub our toes, the promise is that God’s purpose in us will remain unbroken and secure.
You may slip. The Hebrew word here even implies actually falling down. You may stagger, but you won’t fall to the point where you can’t get back up. Even the Lord’s most devoted servants were overwhelmed by trials, tempted by sin, and burdened by doubt, weren’t they?
Remember Peter, the Lord’s apostle? He walked on water. The Lord called him out, and he walked on water—only to falter when distracted by the storm. He slipped in his faith.
King David, a man after God’s own heart, known as the godliest king in Israel, experienced both moral failure and emotional despair. But the Lord preserved their lives, didn’t He? Even when the faithful feel that they’re about to fall, God’s power intervenes to keep them from absolute ruin.
Think about how God has preserved your life. You have troubles. Of course you do. You’re human and live in a broken world. Some of us are experiencing the trouble of being separated from loved ones we long to be with. Some of us are experiencing the troubles of the law—maybe breaking the law. Some of us are dealing with joblessness and a lack of income. Some of us are facing relational troubles, marital troubles. Some of us are struggling with not knowing what the future looks like, and it causes a lot of anxiety, doesn’t it?
And yet, you look to the Lord, and the Lord will not allow you to fall into ultimate ruin. The psalmist says in Psalm 37:23, “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, and He delights in his way. When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the Lord is the one who holds his hand.”
Picture a toddler learning to walk, holding the hand of a parent. Though they do it clumsily and stumble, if the parent is holding their hand, they stop the child from doing a face plant, don’t they? My friends, that’s the picture here. We do trip in life, but if you’re God’s—if you’re His—He will not allow you to do a face plant. He will not allow you to fall into utter ruin. That doesn’t mean you won’t fall into temptation, struggle with sin, or even give in to temptation. But the Lord won’t let you stay down, will He?
Even when we falter, we’re standing. Our standing is secure because we’re upheld by God’s grace. You’re not being upheld by your own ability to be moral or to live a principled life—you’re being upheld by God’s grace. It’s God’s grace at work in your life, and His grace is more than sufficient to carry you.
Oftentimes, God deliberately allows trials in our lives—stumblings—to teach us to depend on Him. The Apostle Paul knew all about this when he wrote his second letter to the Corinthians. In chapter 12, verse 9, he tells us that he had some kind of thorn in the flesh. We don’t know exactly what it was, but it was something painful to Paul in some way. He prayed three times that the Lord would take it away from him, and then Paul says in verse 9, “He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.’” “Paul,” God says, “you have what you need in Me. You’re going to keep this painful experience in your life, but you have more than you need in Me. My grace is sufficient for you, and My power is perfected in your weakness.”
We all stumble in many ways, but the Lord doesn’t let His people fall into ruin. That is something to be tremendously thankful for—not just thankful, but joyfully thankful. Paul goes on to say, “Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”
Paul didn’t give in to self-pity. He didn’t throw a pity party, feel sorry for himself, or try to cure his blues in a bottle. He didn’t mope around the house for days, dragging his family down. Rather, he learned to be grateful, because this difficulty, this stumbling, this thorn deepened his reliance upon Christ.
Have you stumbled? Have you stumbled badly? The Lord will use that in your life to teach you to depend on Him. Some of us have stumbled so badly that the memory of it will never go away—it’s scarred us for life. For some, it was someone else’s fault. For many of us, it was our own fault. And yet, the Lord uses those things to teach us that He is sufficient and to teach us to continue depending on Him.
Remember Peter’s failure to stand by Jesus during His arrest. Jesus was arrested, and Peter—who had boasted he would never deny the Lord—denied Him three times and then ran out, weeping bitterly as an utter failure. But what did that lead to? It led to a deeper understanding of God’s grace. The Lord restored Peter, asking him three times, “Do you love Me?” And that restoration led to Peter being used as a bold leader in the early church, as we see in the book of Acts.
This is why we can truly be grateful for every step—because whether in moments of strength or weakness, God is working all things together for good. He is drawing us closer to Himself and increasing our joy in the process. Thank God for stubbed toes! Thank God. I remember my old pastor sharing a story. He stubbed a toe—he kicked a piece of furniture—and if you’ve ever done that, you know how much it hurts. I’m sure I’ve fractured many toes in my life and just kept going. But he said, “Praise Jesus!” And I thought, “That just sounds so unrealistic.” But he was sincere in that.
Friends, we need to be stripped of our dependency on anything other than God. You know what? You don’t realize that Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have. There’s a blessing in subtraction. There’s a blessing in God reducing the things in your life—the things you think you need, the things that scare you to death when you imagine losing them. And it’s only in losing those things that you eventually see, “I really didn’t need those things like I thought I did.” You don’t realize Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.
Deliberately walking in slippery places, however, increases the risk of losing your footing, doesn’t it? It increases the risk of losing control and falling. Some of us have a problem with deliberately walking on slippery paths, don’t we?
The wicked walk presumptuously, trusting in their own strength, wisdom, and desires. But deliberately choosing to walk a slippery path is foolish because it’s unstable. In Psalm 73:18, the psalmist wrestles with why it seems that the wicked people he knows are prospering. Why is it that they’re prospering, and yet he’s struggling? He finally comes to a turning point in Psalm 73, and in verse 18, he says, “Surely You set them in slippery places; You cast them down to destruction.”
If you’ve ever been hiking in areas that are a little more dangerous, you know that as you continue your journey, each movement becomes more uncertain, doesn’t it? You have to pay greater attention and take greater effort to maintain your balance so that you don’t fall. Seemingly small compromises, seemingly small lapses in judgment, can have far-reaching consequences, can’t they? When you don’t pay attention, and when you deliberately walk in slippery paths, the risks only increase.
Yet, as I meditated on this, I realized the Lord will not allow you to slip if you keep your eyes on Him. And how often the Lord protects His own from dangers we don’t even perceive. Have you considered how many dangers the Lord has protected you from this week that you aren’t even aware of? How many cars didn’t crash into you? You received a paycheck, you didn’t get fired—well, you might think, “I’m a good worker,” but you don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes with your employer. God provided for your employer to give you that paycheck.
We have no idea all the things that have happened in our lives, or in my life, to protect us. We don’t know all the ways that God has guarded us from dangers we didn’t even know were there. We’re celebrating Thanksgiving in a week, and I often turn to read William Bradford’s journal, Of Plymouth Plantation, about the Pilgrims’ journey from Leiden to Plymouth.
As I read about those original Pilgrims and their settlement in Plymouth, I realized how much of their story is filled with examples of God’s unseen hand at work—how He shaped events in ways they only came to understand after the fact. The Pilgrims, known as Separatists, believed that the Church of England was so corrupt that they decided to separate from it. That was against the law in England, so they left earlier than many Puritans, going to Holland and eventually to the New World—America.
There were 102 people on that journey, and they weren’t all part of the Separatist group. About half were from John Robinson’s church, and the rest included others who were coming to the New World for different reasons. They crossed the sea with their families, which was highly unusual for such a long and difficult journey.
During the crossing, they encountered storms. One severe storm cracked a main beam of the ship, and it seemed they were doomed. Yet one of the Pilgrims happened to have brought a screw, which fit the beam perfectly, allowing them to repair the ship and complete the journey. That’s Providence—they didn’t even know why they had that screw.
When they arrived in the New World, it wasn’t as if they just jumped off the ship and said, “Woo, flat land!” No, storms forced them up and down the East Coast, looking for a place to land. Originally, they planned to settle near the Hudson River in Virginia, but the storms pushed them further north to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. What they didn’t know was that there were larger populations of hostile Native Americans near the Hudson River. Where they ended up was less populated, though they couldn’t have known that at the time.
While they searched for a settlement, a scouting party nearly capsized but landed safely on Clark’s Island, which became their Plymouth base. When they finally settled, they discovered that a plague had decimated the local Native tribes a few years earlier. The land was cleared and cultivated but largely uninhabited. Nearby tribes avoided the area out of fear or respect, which ensured the Pilgrims’ initial safety. This alignment of events—the aftermath of the plague and the weakened local tribes—prevented early conflicts. How did that happen? How did it all coincide? God was looking out for them.
Some of you have heard of Squanto, a famous Native American who spoke English. Why did he speak English? Years earlier, he had been captured by Westerners, taken to England, and enslaved. He eventually escaped and was returned to America on a ship whose captain showed him mercy. When he returned, most of his tribe had been decimated by the plague. Squanto met the Pilgrims, taught them how to farm and fish, and gave them the survival skills they needed in this new world—skills they didn’t know they needed.
The local Wampanoag tribe formed an alliance with the Pilgrims, aiding in their defense and survival. Even so, it wasn’t easy for the Pilgrims. They found caches of corn buried by Native Americans who had died in the plague, which provided food and seed. But that first winter was still incredibly difficult—over half of them perished.
Their food supplies, however, stretched just enough to sustain the remaining Pilgrims and prevent starvation. Out of the 102 who made the journey, around half were part of John Robinson’s church. Many of the others—called “strangers”—were hostile toward the Pilgrims. Of those who died, a larger percentage were the strangers, not the Separatists.
Yet through it all, the Pilgrims’ shared faith in God’s providence gave them unity, resilience, and encouragement. Their story is a testament to how God’s unseen hand provides and protects in ways we often don’t realize until later.
Here’s what I’m saying, here’s what Scripture teaches: the Lord often protects you in ways you don’t even know about. You have a lot to be thankful for, don’t you? Put it in that perspective—gratitude requires perspective. So, the psalmist—go back to the psalm—says in verse 3:
“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”
You know what he’s saying? He’s saying that God is always watchful and never surprised. Always watchful. Sleep is a universal reminder of how limited we are because we all need it, don’t we? We all need rest. No matter how diligent and strong we are, we have to rest. And what happens in the world while you’re asleep? You have no control over it. In our absence, life continues, doesn’t it? Beyond our control.
Now think about what the psalmist is saying here. While we require rest and are prone to distraction, God is never inattentive, never caught off guard, never unaware. God does not sleep. Nothing escapes His notice—not the smallest detail of our lives nor the grand movements of history. Everything in your life has been orchestrated by His hand. Everything.
So, you might say, “I’ve experienced a lot of bad things in my life, Pastor David. Are you saying God’s in control of that?” Yes. I’m not saying that God takes pleasure in evil. Scripture is very clear: “He takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked.” He can’t be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt people. “God does not walk in darkness,” as 1 John tells us. But in His sovereignty, He allows the things in this world to push us toward something greater—for His own purposes. Nothing escapes His notice. But He allows us to go through difficulties, through things that are horrid. Isaiah says in Isaiah 40:28,
“Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable.”
He knows the beginning of your life. He ordained your birth. And He’s ordained the date of your death. Do you have anything to do with that? Well, surely we make choices, and those choices factor in. But you know that God ultimately is in control of that date, and of that dash—that little mark that will be on your tombstone. We need to be good stewards of our bodies and the opportunities God gives us, don’t we? But in the end, that date is fixed. And there’s nothing I can do to change it. I’m going to do what I can to extend my years to give glory to God. But that day is coming. God knows.
And while life may surprise or overwhelm us, nothing takes God by surprise. He is always prepared to guide and protect us. What is it in your life that you wish was different? It does not take God by surprise. Cancer, poor health, being abandoned by a spouse, finding yourself in circumstances you never thought you’d be in—my friends, it never took God by surprise. He knew it was coming. And here He is, awake on the job.
I noticed this in this psalm: as I read it, there’s a repetition of the words you and your in Psalm 121. That emphasizes God’s individual attention to each believer. He’s not a distant guardian. His care for you is personal—it’s a personal job with you. Look at verses 3 through 8:
“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever.”
That’s who our Lord is. He’s personal. The Lord cares deeply about you.
But notice in verse 4 that He shifts His attention to Israel: “Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” He highlights God’s care for His covenant people as a whole. He cares for you as part of His covenant people.
Ever consider this: time is not an obstacle for God. The past, the present, and the future are all fully known to Him. And while we may feel that God is slow to act, or inattentive, His diligence ensures that His timing is always perfect. God’s timing is perfect. You are where you are supposed to be. His timing is perfect because God is taking care of you. And you can trust His provision in every trial.
God’s tireless care should inspire deep gratitude and profound comfort because we can rest in Him. Even when you’re unaware of the dangers around you, God is actively watching. So why do we worry?
Doesn’t Jesus say, “Why do you worry about your life—what you will eat, what you will drink, what you will wear? Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?” My friends, you don’t have to worry if you’re His. Worry is a sign of idolatry—it’s a sign that we think we need something more than God, more than Christ. And so, not only can we trust God in trials, but those very trials have meaning because they refine us and prepare us for eternal glory.
Now, my third point—we can look at verses 5 and 6—is this: if you’re going to be grateful for every step, then…
Find meaning in suffering by trusting God’s plan
The psalmist says in verse 5,
“The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day, nor the moon by night.”
When you’re walking through life’s journey, sometimes the sun gets pretty hot, doesn’t it? And yet, God’s nearness assures protection and guidance, even in the harshest conditions you find yourself walking through. No matter where you are in life or what your steps look like, God’s nearness assures your protection and guidance.
You know, prolonged exposure to the sun while walking can cause sunstroke, can’t it? When you’re out in the heat without proper hydration, it can physically drive you to exhaustion. And the ancients—and even some modern people—believe that the moon does funny things to the mind. When it’s a full moon, people say pregnant women are more likely to give birth or that more crimes are committed. The ancients were especially fearful; they called it lunacy. They believed the moon could affect mental stability, so they would call upon their gods for protection or wear amulets from the “moon goddess.”
Walking in the sun can cause sunstroke, and long journeys with fatigue and anxiety can lead to emotional illness. Yet the psalmist says God is near even in these struggles. Even when the path feels unbearable, He is our shade, He is near, and He is our comforter. You can find meaning in the suffering you go through in life because He is present in it. He offers comfort and strength, and His presence redeems our pain by assuring us that we are not alone. You’re not alone. God tells Israel in Isaiah 43:2,
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you.”
My friends, the Lord is with His people. There is meaning and value in suffering. Indeed, suffering is an important part of your growth in Christ. The believer’s hope is not in avoiding suffering but in the assurance that God walks us through it.
We can thank God for the trials we endure, can’t we? Even though the circumstances themselves may not be good—spouses break up, children are abused, people are taken advantage of, and sometimes we’re the ones doing the taking advantage. Jobs come to an end, bank accounts rise and fall. And yet, God uses these things for our good. I hope most of you have Romans 8:28 memorized. I think it’s one of the most famous verses in the Bible. It says,
“We know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”
Your trials are working together with God. God is orchestrating your suffering and using it to accomplish His purposes. It’s not as if the devil is here causing problems while God is just trying to fix them but isn’t very good at it. No—God is sovereignly working all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.
The question is, are you called according to His purpose? And is it revealed by your love for the Lord? As I reflected on this, I realized something profound: our modern, secular world has no way to make sense of suffering. Without a sovereign Creator, suffering becomes senseless. It’s a nuisance, a problem to solve, or an unfortunate accident to endure. It’s meaningless.
For the unbeliever, the goal in life is to maximize happiness. But suffering interferes with that goal; it minimizes their happiness and becomes a nuisance.
For the believer, however, our ultimate hope is not in happiness in this life—it’s in joy in the Lord. Suffering, when viewed through the lens of a meaningless, indifferent universe, is seen as a random product of chance. But for those who trust in God, suffering is never meaningless. It is a tool in the hands of a loving and sovereign Creator. God promises that He will keep us from all evil. In verse 7, the psalmist says,
“The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul.”
Now, this does not mean that we will never face pain, but that no evil will have the ultimate power over God’s people’s lives. And that is good news. That is truly good news.
You see, suffering is never meaningless when you’re under God’s providential hand. It’s never meaningless. God has a purpose in it. You may not understand it, and you don’t have to—not right now. But knowing who the Lord is, you can find comfort in the fact that He is doing something through it. And this suffering is not forever.
In fact, your suffering often draws you closer to God—closer to the One who suffered Himself for you. Jesus died on a cross under the greatest torment and agony—excruciating pain—for your sins. And your sin is worse than you think it is. It’s far worse. You’ll never fully understand just how grievous our sin is in the nostrils of a holy, holy God, and the doom that awaits us because of it.
We didn’t perceive it. We didn’t understand how desperately we needed rescue, how utterly hopeless we were. And yet, at the right time, God sent His Son Jesus. Two thousand years ago, long before you were born, He sent Jesus to become a man, to represent lost men and women. He orchestrated His death on a cross to pay a penalty that you owed to God. It’s not as if we have a God who doesn’t understand suffering. Oh, He understands it far better than you. He entered into our suffering. He felt it. He knows.
And suffering prepares us for eternal glory—where there will be no more suffering. There’s a day coming. A day is coming when all the suffering you’ve ever endured, if you are His, you will look back on and say, “That was nothing.” I think some of us, who have been through incredibly cruel injustices in life, might say, “Nothing?” Yes, even that thing you’ve clung to—the thing that shaped your life and rocked your world—you’ll look back and see it in a whole new way. If you are in Christ, when you get to heaven, you’ll look back and say, “Why did I let that have such an impact on me?”
My friends, He is preparing us for eternal glory. But if you are not His—if you worship idols, if you don’t trust Him—then this suffering here is light compared to what’s coming to you. Remember, God is holy. He is holy, and He will judge sin.
Let’s end with verse 8:
“The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever.”
Oh, the security of God’s people! What incredible security we have in being His. The believer’s ultimate reward infinitely outweighs the cost of all our earthly trials. That’s why the Bible calls us strangers and pilgrims in a foreign land. As the famous song goes, “This world is not my home; I’m just passing through.” This is not my home. My address here in Chilla is a temporary residence. I’m not staying here, and my home isn’t here. I’ve thought about having someone put on my tombstone: “Coming back soon.” You see, when I die, it’s just a change of address. I’m going home.
My friends, we can give thanks for every step of life’s journey—even in trials—because God is not only leading us but using every experience to draw us closer to Him and prepare us for eternity.
Do you know the Lord? Do you know the Lord like that? Do you know Him in a way that allows you to look at your life—both the unfortunate circumstances that have happened to you and the consequences of your own bad choices—and say, “Yes, my help comes from the Lord. I’m not looking to the hills. I’m looking to the Lord. My help comes from Him. Jesus has paid my debt. My life is secure in Him. He keeps me, He protects me, He guides me.” My friends, Jesus offers you hope today. Do you want to quit carrying that heavy load, that emotionally exhausting burden that plagues your mind? Come to Christ. He says, “I will give you rest.”
Matthew, I’m going to ask you to come up. As he leads us in song, I invite you to reflect on what we’ve just heard from the psalmist. If you’ve not called upon Christ for forgiveness, to be your Savior and your Lord, I urge you to call upon Him now. It’s not the formulation of your words that matters—it’s the attitude of your heart toward Him. If you trust Him, He will by no means turn you away.
Let’s pray: My dear heavenly Father, I am a wretched man, without hope. I could easily fall into the traps of self-pity and blame my problems on other people or circumstances. I could make myself the victim of everything. Indeed, I’m tempted to do that all the time. Lord, I often fail to take responsibility for my own life and my choices. And if You were to judge me based solely on my life and choices, You must send me to hell. And yet, Jesus, I thank You that You paid my debt. I thank You that You guide me. I pray You would forgive us. Lead us into a season of intense longing for Your presence—a season where we don’t feel like we need anything else to worship You. Let our hearts wake up each morning, delighted to praise You, to say thank You, and to do whatever it is You lay before us for the day. I pray You would cleanse us. Thank You for all You’ve done for us. Thank You for every step that has brought us to this point. In Your name we pray, Jesus. Amen.
