Week 6 of Lent – A Hope That Holds Us
Scripture
“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!
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the Lord!
For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
and with him is plentiful redemption.
And he will redeem Israel
from all his iniquities.
Psalm 130:1, 5-8
Reflection
Friend, I have been without hope. I have sat in the pit of my depression and wondered if God was real, whether my faith was dead, and if I would survive the night. God showed up with scripture as I read the words of the psalmist. Hope wasn’t based on
- The state of my heart.
- The circumstances in my life.
- My belief or unbelief.
Hope, I’ve found, is found in my trust in God. Whether that trust is small, or large, I can mentally choose hope, no matter how I feel. Over time I’ve seen times of waiting, sorrow, and grief as gardens for hope. Hope in God has been formed in the shadows, slowly, quietly, and deeply, while I’ve waited. What we believe about God during times when everything around us tells us He has left….what we believe about God in those moments matter.
Psalm 130 begins not with triumph, but with honesty: “Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord” (v.1). These are the words of someone who knows darkness, who understands the ache of delay, and yet chooses to keep turning toward God.
What follows is not immediate relief, but waiting. “I wait for the Lord; I wait and put my hope in His word. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning” (vv.5–6). The image is striking. The watchman does not know exactly when the light will break, but he is certain that it will. Morning is inevitable. His waiting is not wishful—it is anchored in what he knows to be true: God’s Word.
In the world we live in, nothing and everything is true at the same time. How do we anchor our lives? Do we let the sorrows tell us what is true, or do we turn to the Bible? A belief in God’s Word – when the Bible is the foundation for our lives, we find a safe place to rest. The beautiful thing about the Bible is that it gives us a true definition of hope.
Biblical hope is not denial of pain, nor is it optimism that everything will quickly improve. It begins with simply choosing to trust that God is who He says He is. When we choose to look to God rather than grasp for quick relief, we find hope. As waiting stretches on, hope deepens—not because circumstances change, but because our eyes do.
Charles Spurgeon once wrote, “Hope itself is like a star—not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.” He understood that hope shines most clearly when the night feels long. In the dark, hope becomes visible—not because the darkness disappears, but because God’s steadfast love does not, it in fact shines brighter.
Psalm 130 reminds us where hope is anchored: “With the Lord there is faithful love, and with Him is redemption in abundance” (v.7). The psalmist does not say redemption might come, or that love is dependent on circumstances. It is already present. Redemption is not uncertain—it is sure. Hope rests not in outcomes, but in the character of God.
This theme echoes throughout the Psalms. “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why are you restless within me? Put your hope in God” (Psalm 42:11). Hope is something the soul must be reminded of—returned to again and again. “The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him” (Psalm 25:3).
Lent invites us into this space—where longing and trust exist together, where we learn to hope without rushing the story. As we wait, we learn to trust not just what God will do, but who He is. Learn by studying scripture and leaning into what you know about God.
Hope may be quiet. But it holds us firmly until the morning comes.
Prayer
Faithful God, teach me the quiet strength of hope. When I am tempted to look for quick relief, turn my eyes back to You. Shape my waiting. Anchor my trust in Your steadfast love. Help me to believe—not just with my words, but with my life—that redemption is certain, even when I cannot yet see it. I wait for You, Lord, and I place my hope in Your Word. Amen.
Reflective Question
How does hope seem far today?
Where in your life is God inviting you to practice a quiet, steady hope—one rooted in His steadfast love rather than immediate answers?
This reflection is part of the Psalms for the Lenten Journey series—a seven-week walk through Lent using the prayers and honesty of the Psalms. If you’d like to read the full series, you can begin at Week 1 and move through each week at your own pace.
Click here to read the other posts in this series.