pain

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -79

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Psalm 79: Crying Out in Lament, Finding Hope in God’s Mercy

Dear friend in Christ, as we open our hearts to Psalm 79, we encounter a raw and honest cry from Asaph, the psalmist, amid unimaginable devastation. This lament, likely written after the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem and the temple around 586 BC, paints a picture of ruin: “O God, the nations have come into your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple; they have laid Jerusalem in ruins” (v. 1, ESV). Bodies lie unburied, God’s people are mocked, and the faithful wonder, “How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever?” (v. 5). Yet, in this darkness, the psalm shifts from despair to plea, seeking God’s compassion, atonement, and ultimate praise: “Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever” (v. 13).In our own turbulent times—whether facing personal trials, global conflicts, or unseen crises like pandemics—this psalm invites us to bring our grief boldly before God. It’s not a cold complaint but a warm expression of trust, knowing He hears the brokenhearted. Contemporary Christian voices remind us that such laments are pathways to deeper faith and hope.

Consider how David Guzik, in his Enduring Word commentary, highlights the triumph of trust in Psalm 79. Even when it feels like God has deserted His people, the psalmist’s faith “stood even such a strain, and is not dashed by a trace of doubt.” The very act of singing this lament reveals an underlying confidence in God’s promises, turning devastation into a hiding place in His name.This encourages us: when life crumbles, our cries to God aren’t signs of weak faith but proof of a relationship anchored in His unchanging love.

Poet and priest Malcolm Guite echoes this in his poetic response, applying the psalm to modern “long trials” like the COVID-19 crisis, where an invisible enemy leaves many unburied and isolated. Yet, he sees Psalm 79 as speaking “directly into our situation,” urging us to persist in faith amid uncertainty, much like Asaph did. In our weariness, Guite’s insight warms us—God meets us in the mess, transforming prolonged suffering into opportunities for renewed closeness with Him. The Open Bible has a great definition of a lament:

“A lament is a prayer or expression of sorrow that acknowledges pain and suffering while turning to God for comfort and understanding. It is a way for believers to process grief in God’s presence, recognizing that life is filled with brokenness and hardship. Lament is not merely complaining; it is a trustful cry to God, reflecting a deep relationship with Him.” Asaph’s grief leads to trust, teaching us to “live by faith, not by sight. For Christians, this culminates at the cross, where our deepest sorrows meet Jesus’ victory, offering atonement and restoration (v. 9).

What a comforting truth! Just as God disciplined Israel out of love, He shapes us through trials to draw us nearer, turning ruin into redemption. My friends, Psalm 79 calls us to honest prayer, not vengeful rage, but appeals to God’s compassion. Let this inspire you: whatever your “ruins” look like—loss, injustice, or doubt—cry out to the Shepherd who cares for His sheep. He atones, delivers, and leads us to eternal praise.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, like Asaph, we pour out our hearts amid brokenness. Forgive our sins, show compassion, and pour Your wrath on evil while sparing us in mercy. Help us trust Your promises, finding hope in Jesus’ cross. May we, Your sheep, praise You forever. Amen.

Grief and the Christian Faith

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Grief is an inescapable reality in a fallen world. The sting of loss — whether through broken relationships, death or shattered dreams — cuts deeply into the human soul. Yet, for the Christian, grief is not a solitary or hopeless journey. It is a journey walked under the sovereign hand of God, illuminated by the promises of Scripture< and sustained by the hope of Christ’s victory over sin and death.

The Bible does not shy away from the rawness of grief. From the anguished cries of Job (Job 3:11) to David’s lament over his fallen son (2 Samuel 18:33), Scripture acknowledges that sorrow is a natural response to loss. The Christian perspective begins with the foundational truth of the Fall: sin has fractured God’s good creation, bringing death and decay into the world (Genesis 3:17-19, Romans 5:12). Grief, then, 7is not an anomaly but a consequence of living in a world marred by sin. It is a reminder that things are not as they were meant to be.

Yet, this recognition does not leave us in despair. The Christian faith emphasizes that even in this brokenness, God remains sovereign. Nothing, not even the deepest pain, falls outside His Divine Purpose. In grief, we are invited to trust that God is working, even when His ways are inscrutable.

For the believer in Christ, grief is not borne alone. Psalm 34:18 assures us, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” This promise anchors the Christian’s understanding of suffering: God does not abandon His people in their sorrow but draws near to them. Jesus Himself, the Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3) entered into human suffering, wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35) and bore our griefs on the cross (Isaish 53:4). In Christ, we find a High Priest who sympathizes with our weakness (Hebrews 4:15), offering comfort that is both divine and deeply personal.

Christian theology underscores that this comfort is not mere sentiment, but a reality rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness. He has promised never to leave or forsake his people (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5). Even in the darkest valley, the Christian can echo David’s confidence: “You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

While grief is real, it is not the final word. The Christian faith clings tenaciously to the hope of the resurrection and the making of a new Earth where death, sorrow and suffering will be no more. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 4:13 that believers “do not grieve as others who have no hope.” This does not mean that Christians avoid tears or suppress sorrow — Jesus Himself wept — but that their grief is tempered by the certainty of Christ’s triumph over death. Because Jesus rose from the grave, those who are united to Him by faith will also rise (1 Corinthians 15:20-22). Death has been defeated, and the day is coming when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4) when the new heavens and earth are created for us.

This hope reshapes how we mourn. Loss is temporary; reunion is eternal. For the Christian, grieving is an act of waiting — waiting until the fulfillment of God’s promises will come to pass. The promises of removing the curse of sin and restoring creation to how it should be.

Grieving as a Christian involves both lament and trust. Lament is not a sign of weak faith, but a biblical response to pain. The Psalms are filled with cries of anguish – “How long O Lord?” (Psalm 13:1) – that model honest wrestling before God. We are free to pour out our hearts, knowing that He hears and cares. At the same time, trust in God’s sovereignty and goodness steadies us. Romans 8:28 assures us that “for those who love God all things work together for good.” This does not erase pain but reframes it within God’s redemptive plan.

Practically this might mean weeping over a loved one’s death while clinging to the promise of eternal life. It might mean wrestling with unanswered questions while resting in the truth that God’s wisdom surpasses our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). It is a posture of humility, acknowledging our limits and God’s infinite goodness.

Finally, the Christian faith emphasizes that grief is not meant to be endured alone. The church, as the body of Christ, is called to “weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). Fellowship with other believers provides tangible support – prayers, meals or simply a listening ear. Moreover, God has given us the means of grace – Scripture, prayer and the sacraments – to sustain us in sorrow. The Word reminds us of God’s promises, prayer draws us into His presence, and Communion offers a foretaste of the heavenly banquet where all tears will cease.

Grieving as a Christian is a paradox. It is sorrow mingled with hope; lament tempered by trust. We mourn deeply because we love deeply, yet we lift our eyes to the One who hold all things in His hands. In the end, our grief is not the end. Christ is risen, God is Sovereign, and the day of restoration draws near. Until then, we grieve as those who belong to Him, resting in His unfailing love and looking forward to the dawn when mourning will give way to everlasting joy.