How Long To Hope

Chippie the parakeet never saw it coming. One second he was peacefully perched in his cage; the next, he was sucked in, washed up, and blown over.

The problems began when Chippie's owner decided to clean Chippie's cage with a vacuum cleaner. She removed the attachment from the end of the hose and stuck it in the cage. The phone rang, and she turned to pick it up. She'd barely said “hello” when—sssopp!—Chippie got sucked in.

The bird owner gasped, put down the phone, turned off the vacuum, and opened the bag. There was Chippie—still alive, but stunned. Since the bird was covered with dust and soot, she grabbed him and raced to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and held Chippie under the running water.

Then, realizing that Chippie was soaked and shivering, she did what any compassionate bird owner would do. She reached for the hair dryer and blasted the pet with hot air.

Poor Chippie never knew what hit him.

A few days after the trauma, the reporter who had originally written about the event contacted Chippie's owner to see how the bird was recovering.

“Well,” she replied, “Chippie doesn’t sing much anymore; he just sits and stares.”

Sometimes life does that to us.

One moment the song is easy. Faith feels natural. Hope feels obvious. Then suddenly the vacuum cleaner of life turns on and everything changes. The song disappears.

---000--- Sucked In, Washed Up, and Blown Over

It's hard not to see why. Sucked in, washed up, and blown over—that's enough to steal the song from the stoutest heart. Can you relate to Chippie? Most of us can.

One minute you're seated in familiar territory with a song on your lips, and then suddenly something happens. The pink slip comes. The rejection letter arrives. The doctor calls. The divorce papers are delivered. The check bounces. A policeman knocks on your door.

Sssopp! You're sucked into a black cavern of doubts, doused with the cold water of reality, and stung with the hot air of empty promises. The life that had been so calm is now stormy. You're hail-stormed by demands, assailed by doubts, pummeled by questions. And somewhere in the trauma, you lose your joy. Somewhere in the storm, you lose your song.

Ever found yourself in that kind of storm? A circumstance you were completely unprepared for? A moment when your safe and secure world suddenly came apart?

Such experiences in a fallen world are not uncommon. They stir up all kinds of emotions in our souls and all kinds of thoughts in our minds. Many of those thoughts and emotions are unsettling—the kinds of things we would rather not talk about, the kinds of things we hesitate to open up about to others.

Have you ever felt forgotten by God? You’ve known Him. You’ve sensed His presence. You’ve experienced His grace. But suddenly it feels as though He has forgotten you.

Have you ever felt that God was avoiding you? That He was not responding to your needs? That somehow He was indifferent to your pain?

All you have to do is live long enough and you will encounter suffering—suffering that is painful and perplexing. In a room like this, filled with this many people, no doubt it has been experienced in many different forms.

Life that once felt joyful suddenly feels burdensome.

Perhaps you have been trying to be faithful, yet it seems that at every turn you are opposed. Your efforts are thwarted. Your contributions are marginalized. Maybe your heart is broken. Maybe relationships are becoming increasingly difficult.

You might be dealing with a chronic illness that has no clear diagnosis. Or maybe the cause is painfully clear and the treatment options are limited. Sometimes the suffering is not even your own—it belongs to someone you love. A spouse. A child. A close friend.

Struggle and suffering enter our lives, and with them come weariness and discouragement.

And when the storm is strong enough, sometimes the song disappears.

---000--- Overhearing the Soul’s Cry

If you have ever felt that way, then Psalm 13 will feel very familiar.

Because in Psalm 13 we overhear someone crying out in the middle of the storm.

We overhear the voice of a man who knows suffering, who knows discouragement, and who knows the kind of hopelessness that suffering can bring.

That man is David. The remarkable thing is this: God chose to preserve David’s prayer in Scripture so that we could listen in. God inspired David to record these emotions—not to hide them, not to sanitize them, but to preserve them—so that when we walk through storms of our own, we would know how to speak to Him.

Psalm 13 is only six verses long, but it contains one of the most honest spiritual journeys in the Bible.