My Soul Waits for the LORD

{A guest post written by my dear friend Teresa Vice}

It was a month and two days after my surgery when the pain struck in the dark early hours of the morning.  My body immediately stiffened as if it were fighting against an enemy attack.  Crying out, as I turned and twisted back and forth to find some kind of relief, only created more pain.  Then a phrase kept repeating – “Relax, relax into the pain”.  WHAT? RELAX?  Out of desperation I slowed down my breathing and with each breath began to speak in a trembling whisper to each part of my body - “fingers let go, hands open, arms rest” - until finally the pain subsided enough to carefully roll out of bed.  As I began to stand and cautiously take a few steps, the pain continued to subside and within a few minutes I was fine.  What just happened?  My recovery had been slow and almost pain free.  Did I do something to set me back?  The questions kept mounting.  Over the next few days, a pattern was forming.  During the day I was fine but in the early morning hours the pain would attack again and again in full force.  Another pattern was also forming – fear.  I dreaded when evening would settle in and it was time to go to bed. 

It was during those nights that Psalm 130 began its work in me.  Those first 2 verses became the very words, the desperate cry from the dark depths of my pain. 

“Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD, Yahweh! O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!” 

As I continued praying and crying out through the Psalm, the next verses built the foundation from where my cry was coming– this longing and anticipation that God was present, that He heard my cry, and no matter how long the night might be, out of His steadfast love He was working out His redemption for me. 

“My soul waits for the LORD more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.” 

In ancient times watchmen stood guard on the walls all night looking for signs of danger or threats. Can you imagine the long tedious nights?  Standing alert.  Watching and waiting.    Oh, but they had one assured hope – that first ray of light announcing “morning has come”.   The city was safe.  Their watch was over.  They could rest. 

And so, my soul waited for the LORD more than watchmen for the morning.  Watching and waiting.   Assured hope in His faithfulness was more guaranteed than the coming of the morning.  Standing with assured hope of God’s presence.  Assured hope that God was hearing my cry.   Assured hope that God was working all things out for my good even when the night seemed long, tedious or even perilous.

Today I cry out from a different depth.  My watching and waiting, my desperate voice of pleas for mercy come from a basement.  This past year we sold our home and purchased a house that needed to be completely renovated down to the studs.  We were generously offered a 2-room basement to live in temporarily.   But temporarily has turned into months.  Our middle of January completion date is looking more like February or March, maybe.  The bins of clothes and paraphernalia that we have needed have become walls and pathways from one room to the next.  And our 2 lovely cats at very inconvenient times bring a smell to our space that belongs in an outhouse. 

And so, we wait. I wait. I wait for more unexpected permits.  I wait for a wall of dry rot to be ripped out, for the new wall to be rebuilt, for the insulation, the electrician, the sheetrock, the cement, the roof, the endless list of to-dos.  And I desperately cry out from the depth of a basement.  But let me make this clear.  It’s a basement dwelling that was given generously.  God provided this generous gift that I cry out from.

What I’m learning (soul formation school is never over) is that with my watching and waiting I also include my expectations.  The table spread before me is my hope in this circumstance. And I lavish my table with all my expectations of how, when and where I expect God to answer my desperate cry.  Living in a basement with our 2 cats and too many bins for endless months was not what I had set on my table.

At this point,

God is waiting...

Waiting for me to empty my table, to surrender to His design, to His timing, to His working all things out for my good even when the night seems long, tedious or even perilous.  

Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD! 

O Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!”

 What depths are you crying out of?  What are you longing for?  

One thing I know, He knows what it feels like to cry out from the depths of Himself.  This is His invitation for you to cry out.  He’s listening.  He hears.  He’s present.  And I think that He might be crying with you as He did with Mary and Martha.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,

and in his word, I hope;

my soul waits for the Lord

more than watchman for the morning,

more than watchman for the morning.

Here the invitation is clear – Wait for the LORD with the assured hope that God is present, that He hears your cry, He knows your depths.  Wait for the LORD with the unshakeable assurance that He is working all things out for your good, in His timing and out of His steadfast love for you.  And resist the urge to set your own table. 

And so, I charge you - Hope in the LORD!  For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption.  And he will redeem (you) from all your iniquities.

Watching and waiting, looking above, filled with His goodness, lost in His love

This is my story.  This is my song. Praising my Savior all the ‘night’ long!