Depression: Looking Up from the Stubborn Darkness by Edward T. Welch Page A
Authors: Edward T. Welch
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and his kingdom; you are prideful and stand in judgment of others. Then you can get more specific. If you fail on this one, the psalm is meaningless.
The psalmist knew that his sin problem was deeper and more critical than his suffering. (And remember that, if he authoredbiblical psalms, he was a decent, fairly moral guy. If he knows his sin, we should too.) He also knew that no other god forgave such infractions without interminable penance. But his God, the triune God of Scripture, did not keep a record of wrongs for all those who turned to him. Therefore, the psalmist stood in awe. He could not comprehend such love, but he was thankful for it.
Exactly how God could forgive rebellion is unclear in the psalm. We, however, know how God could do such a thing. The psalmist anticipates the cross of Christ where God himself bore the just penalty for the rebellion of his creatures.
Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Rom. 5:7–8)
Such insight would have left the psalmist speechless.
H OPE
Love produces hope. If we, in our misery, are absolutely persuaded of God’s love, we will be confident that he will deliver us. Therefore, we hope in him. We can wait as long as it takes because we are sure that he hears us and loves us. He will come. He will deliver. In fact, he is on the move right now. God’s love inspires both an eagerness to be with him and a confidence that he is true to his word, so we know he will come. It is these two—eagerness and confidence—that combine to form hope.
When love is involved, time moves at a different pace. When Jacob served seven years for his wife-to-be Rachel, “they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her” (Gen. 29:20). Contrast this with what feels like the never-ending present-tense of suffering with depression: relief will never come, sleep will never come, the morning will never come.
The reality is that we are the watchmen on the last watch of the night. It is 4:30 a.m. We have seen the sunrise many times, and we are eager for it and confident it will come. What is the sunrise we are waiting for? In Psalm 130, the morning sun is a person. In that person are many benefits such as healing, deliverance, and love, but, make no mistake, it is a person. We wait for him more than for his gifts. We are not like children who eagerly wait to get to Grandmom’s because she will have presents. We are like married lovers whose spouse is soon to return after a long trip. Just seeing the person is enough, whether he or she bears gifts or not.
Be careful at this point that you aren’t discouraged by the psalmist. His enthusiasm is inspiring but difficult to match. If it isn’t quite contagious, don’t despair. To move from the depths to a confident hope takes practice. Consider this psalm a condensed version of a long learning process.
God has determined that many good things come through perseverance. Look around and see how you have had to keep working at something before you learned it. Sports, hobbies, vocations, even relationships—they all follow the same pattern. So don’t expect hope to happen immediately. It would be like insisting that you play Mozart before your second piano lesson. Hope is both a gift from God and a skill he enables us to attain. The point is that you can have the psalmist’s hope.
E NCOURAGING O THERS
When you receive something wonderful, you talk about it. The news can’t be contained. In this psalm, what began as the cry of an isolated man becomes a shout to the community. “If I have found hope and love in the Lord, then you can too. If I have found joy in forgiveness, you can too.” Or, to paraphrase, “If I, an Old Testament psalmist who hasn’t seen the coming of Jesus, can speak with this kind of hope, how much more can you, who have witnessed the
The psalmist knew that his sin problem was deeper and more critical than his suffering. (And remember that, if he authoredbiblical psalms, he was a decent, fairly moral guy. If he knows his sin, we should too.) He also knew that no other god forgave such infractions without interminable penance. But his God, the triune God of Scripture, did not keep a record of wrongs for all those who turned to him. Therefore, the psalmist stood in awe. He could not comprehend such love, but he was thankful for it.
Exactly how God could forgive rebellion is unclear in the psalm. We, however, know how God could do such a thing. The psalmist anticipates the cross of Christ where God himself bore the just penalty for the rebellion of his creatures.
Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Rom. 5:7–8)
Such insight would have left the psalmist speechless.
H OPE
Love produces hope. If we, in our misery, are absolutely persuaded of God’s love, we will be confident that he will deliver us. Therefore, we hope in him. We can wait as long as it takes because we are sure that he hears us and loves us. He will come. He will deliver. In fact, he is on the move right now. God’s love inspires both an eagerness to be with him and a confidence that he is true to his word, so we know he will come. It is these two—eagerness and confidence—that combine to form hope.
When love is involved, time moves at a different pace. When Jacob served seven years for his wife-to-be Rachel, “they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her” (Gen. 29:20). Contrast this with what feels like the never-ending present-tense of suffering with depression: relief will never come, sleep will never come, the morning will never come.
The reality is that we are the watchmen on the last watch of the night. It is 4:30 a.m. We have seen the sunrise many times, and we are eager for it and confident it will come. What is the sunrise we are waiting for? In Psalm 130, the morning sun is a person. In that person are many benefits such as healing, deliverance, and love, but, make no mistake, it is a person. We wait for him more than for his gifts. We are not like children who eagerly wait to get to Grandmom’s because she will have presents. We are like married lovers whose spouse is soon to return after a long trip. Just seeing the person is enough, whether he or she bears gifts or not.
Be careful at this point that you aren’t discouraged by the psalmist. His enthusiasm is inspiring but difficult to match. If it isn’t quite contagious, don’t despair. To move from the depths to a confident hope takes practice. Consider this psalm a condensed version of a long learning process.
God has determined that many good things come through perseverance. Look around and see how you have had to keep working at something before you learned it. Sports, hobbies, vocations, even relationships—they all follow the same pattern. So don’t expect hope to happen immediately. It would be like insisting that you play Mozart before your second piano lesson. Hope is both a gift from God and a skill he enables us to attain. The point is that you can have the psalmist’s hope.
E NCOURAGING O THERS
When you receive something wonderful, you talk about it. The news can’t be contained. In this psalm, what began as the cry of an isolated man becomes a shout to the community. “If I have found hope and love in the Lord, then you can too. If I have found joy in forgiveness, you can too.” Or, to paraphrase, “If I, an Old Testament psalmist who hasn’t seen the coming of Jesus, can speak with this kind of hope, how much more can you, who have witnessed the
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