“My eyes have failed from watching for your promise, and I say, ‘When will you comfort me?’”

Psalm 119 is the longest of the 150. Spanning multiple pages, the psalmist writes for understanding of God’s ways, deepening of faith, and proclaiming the God’s glory. It is, in my opinion, a long love letter to God that doubles as a plea for comprehension. Reading it this morning, I found myself stuck repeating the words above, especially, “When will you comfort me?”

119:82 strikes at my heart, rending it into halves. The first being my faithfulness to God; the second being my impatience with current events. Personally, and worldly, I struggle sometimes. There is the half of my heart that wants vengeance against people who hurt me. That same half desires reckoning for those who hurt others. Then, there is the other piece, the half that knows God is sovereign and vengeance doesn’t belong to me. I know that I must wait with patience, endure anguish, keep faith, and know that hurts and haunts will happen. Verse 82 hits hardest then—I’ve been waiting, God, where are you?

When families are separated, where are you?

When people are hungry, where are you?

When churches care more about image and prestige than the Great Commission, where are you?

When I am at war with myself, where are you?

When my neighbor commits acts of terror, where are you?

I am tired…where are you?

Then I remember.

I remember that, without God, I am nothing. I could not have in the past, and could not now, survive on my own merit without God’s loving embrace and grace. My eyes grow tired from time to time, yet they remain locked onto the cross in hope. The ‘when’ of comfort then ceases to matter; the work of God is ongoing, and I am too small to critique God’s timing. Who am I to question God? What faith resides in me—faith in myself, or faith in the one is has already and is yet to come? All too often, I rely on my own power rather than the greatness of God. That is what makes my eyes heavy—the fatigue of attempting to fulfill Godly promises with human abilities. It’s what burdens my soul.

To be unburdened, to be released from the shackles of self-reliance and to stop the questioning, I hope I can continue to become stronger in faith. I desire God’s grace for comfort, always. But am I seeing that God’s grace is upon me already? The dark nights, the endless tragedies, the infighting in churches…God is present in those moments, sustaining me and those involved. Covering all of us with love and grace is the only way in which we have not destroyed ourselves up to this point. God is here, now. God has always been, and will always be, the safety within which we live. It doesn’t feel like it at times due to our own despair, but that’s when—if we look—we can see God most clearly. As for comfort? What else do I need? I have faith. I have love. I have mercy. And I still have hope.

Keep your eyes on the cross and your hearts in one piece and pray for me that I will be able to do the same. God works through each of us in our different seasons. If I am in an impatient season, and you see that, help me with the grace you’ve been given. Likewise, if you are the same, I will be there for you in God’s name. That is the comfort of God; his people having enough faith to not give up on each other, and to keep watching out for one another. God works through us. Brings comfort through us. Brings joy through us. Brings peace through us. Brings love into the world through us. All done so by the power of the Holy Spirit and the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ. That—and only that—is where our comfort lies.

And the time is now.

Faithfully,

Fr. Sean+