10 The Comfort of God’s Presence
10
It was a beautiful, comforting picture of faithful love. I didn’t ask her to do it; I didn’t know she would offer to do it. It was much more of a wonderful portrait of her heart than it was of my need. She did it because of what was in her, not because of what she had gotten for me. In those first scary and torturous days in the hospital, Luella never left my side. It wasn’t just that she was there during normal visiting hours to talk with doctors and to greet the visitors whom I was unable to greet. She slept next to me in an uncomfortable recliner every night. When the spasms returned, the pain intensified, or the nurse awakened me for medication, Luella was with me. In the morning when I awoke to face a day I really didn’t want to face, Luella was right there with me. When tears came, she was there to comfort. When I got discouraged, she was quick to encourage.
I was comforted by more than words. I was comforted by her presence and what her presence said about her love for me. She had put her world on hold for my sake. I have thought many times since that Luella’s faithful, attentive presence in the darkest of days and the weakest of moments is a beautiful picture of the faithful presence of another. God is the ultimate present one. He has invaded my life by his grace. He is with me, for me, and in me. The hope I have is more than a theological system or wisdom principles for everyday life. My hope rests on the willing, faithful, powerful, and loving presence of God with me. It is the ultimate gift of gifts to everyone who walks the harsh and bumpy road between birth and eternity. God has given us no sweeter, more beautiful gift than the gift of himself. He is the gift that changes everything. His presence is what every sufferer needs, whether they know it or not.
I love how David begins Psalm 27, a psalm that was written during dark days in his life. It is a psalm of trouble, but it doesn’t begin with trouble; it begins with wonderful, mind-expanding, heart-engaging, life-changing theology. And there’s a lesson in this. It is never more important than in times of suffering to hold onto and remember the theology of the Word of God. When you are suffering, it is vital that you preach regularly to yourself the truths that Scripture declares. It is vital that your thinking, feeling, interpreting, and craving heart is given the wisdom, guidance, and comfort that only the theology of the Word of God can give. Bad theology will complicate and worsen your suffering. Bad theology will crush your hope when it needs to be bolstered. Bad theology will weaken your faith when it needs to be strengthened. Bad theology will leave your heart wondering and wandering, when it needs to be rooted and at peace. I would ask you, when suffering enters your door, where does your heart run? What do you fill your mind with?
Let me look at the first verse of Psalm 27 with you:
The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?
Notice the theology presented in this verse. David’s hope as he faces the unthinkable is not an abstract, distant, or impersonal set of ideas. The theology that he preaches to himself in this psalm rests its entire hope on the presence and grace of a person. To leave out the “my” and shorten his declaration to simply, “The Lord is light,” would take away the personal power and majesty from the theological declaration. In fact, look anywhere in Scripture and you’ll see that the theology of the Word of God is never presented in an academic, impersonal, abstract way. The epicenter of the Bible’s theology is the story of God coming to dwell with his people and unleashing his glory for their good.
Here David celebrates the only place he can find hope—in the presence of the Lord. To be David’s light, salvation, and stronghold, the Lord must be near. In the pain of unthinkable things David says, “God, it’s your presence that lights my way, it’s your presence that gives me hope that I will be delivered from evil, and it’s your presence that provides refuge for me when it seems that there is nowhere to run.” When we are facing hardship, it is vital that we preach to ourselves the theology of the presence of the Lord. That theology doesn’t just define the nature of God’s commitment to us; it also defines who we are as children of God. Psalm 27:1 defines David’s identity more clearly and accurately than any circumstance or relationship ever could. We were wired to get our identity vertically, because the things we look to horizontally will never deliver to us the security of identity that we find in the presence and grace of God.
Our hope is not found in understanding why God allowed suffering into our lives. Our hope is not found in the belief that somehow we will tough our way through. Our hope is not found in doctors, lawyers, pastors, family, or friends. Our hope is not found in our resilience or ingenuity. Our hope is not found in ideas or things. Though we may look to all those for temporary help, ultimately our hope rests in the faithful and gracious presence of the Lord with us.
He is not weakened by what weakens us. He is not confused by what confuses us. He does not suffer from the mood swings that afflict us. He is not afraid like we are. He never makes a bad decision. He never finds himself out of control. He never wants to take back his words. He never regrets the way he’s behaved. He never responds impulsively. His choices are never driven by anxiety. He never dreads the next day. He never wants to give up. He is never frustrated by an inability to make a difference. He is with us, but the reason this is so wonderfully comforting is that he is completely unlike us in every way. He is limitless in power, he has authority over everything, he is perfect in every way, he dwells with us, and he assures us that he’s not leaving.
I want to direct your attention to two amazing promises about God’s presence that provide true, lasting, and sturdy hope when things you have hoped in lie beaten, battered, and broken into pieces. When the confusion of the unexpected so controls your mind that you are barely able to think, these promises can give you clarity. When weakness seems to make everything in your life hard or nearly impossible, these promises can renew your strength. When the betrayal of a loved one or the uniqueness of your suffering makes you feel completely alienated and alone, these promises will remind you that there is someone who holds you close. When it seems as if you lack the resources you need to deal with what you are facing, these promises remind you that you have more, much more, potential than you would have on your own. When darkness has enveloped you, and you feel that you’re stumbling around in the night, these promises have the power to illumine your way.
In a moment your life can change dramatically. In a moment the future that seemed so sure evaporates before your eyes. In a moment that loved one whom you thought would walk with you for the rest of your days walks away or is taken away, never to return again. In a single conversation you are told that sickness will rob you of your physical vitality. In a moment an injury changes your life forever. Yes, life changes in little ordinary moments or in dramatic big moments. You and I have no power to make our lives stay as they are. We have no power to welcome only the good things into our lives and ward off the bad things. We cannot assure ourselves that we will always be loved, protected, and healthy or will always have the resources we need. We cannot put security systems in our lives to protect us from fear and sorrow. When we’re going through dark and tough things, we cannot guarantee ourselves that these will pass and that things will get better. We’re all dealing with forces bigger and more powerful than we are. It only takes the wicked whip of a tornado or the fearsome power of a hurricane to remind us of how small we are, how fragile our lives are, and how little power we actually have.
I have had the privilege of listening to fellow sufferers as they describe their inability to control their circumstances. One dear lady described it this way: “Paul, I feel that I’m sliding down a long, long mud tube. I don’t know where it’s going or if it’s ever going to end, but there are no handholds to grab that would keep me from sliding down even more.” That’s a powerful picture of a scary human experience. A man captured it this way for me: “It’s like I’ve been locked in a very small box. There are no holes where I can look out. There is no way to get out, and I just sit in the box wondering if this is going to be it for me.” Imagine getting up every day to the mud tube or the locked box, or maybe that is what you get up to.
I want, in these moments, to help you do more than find ways to escape or survive. I want to help you understand that these moments have the unique power to transform you. In fact, I argue that moments of suffering are always transformational in some way. No one ever comes out of the unexpected, the unwanted, the difficult, and the discouraging unchanged. What you suffer will change you. You will not rise out of tragedy the way you were before it overtook you.
You might come out of suffering angry, doubtful, self-protective, cynical, or bitter, or allow it to make you that way. You might feel forsaken and ripped off, and although you never talk about it, you take spiritual and emotional scars into every situation and relationship thereafter. You may not see it or be willing to admit it, but you’ve changed, and the results are tragic.
Alternatively, suffering can form in you new and beautiful things, things that grow only from the soil of difficulty. Suffering has the power not only to renew your hope but also to transform it. Suffering can give you a type of strength unrelated to your gifts, health, power, or position. Suffering has the power to help you see where you’ve been completely blind but didn’t know it. Suffering can bless you with a joy that’s independent of life being easy and people liking you. Suffering has the power to turn your timidity into courage and your doubt into surety. Hardship can turn envy into contentment and complaint into praise. It has the power to make you tender and approachable, to replace subtle rebellion with joyful surrender. Suffering has the power to form beautiful things in your heart that reform the way you live your life. It has incredible power to be a tool of transforming grace.
You may be thinking, “Paul, are you ever going to get to talking about these two amazing promises?” The reason I’ve taken time to introduce them is that acknowledging the inescapability of suffering’s effects provides a reason for every sufferer to get excited about understanding the full meaning and import of the two promises of God’s presence at the heart of the right-here, right-now hope of the gospel.
“I Am with You Always”
There could be no more stunning declaration packed with more practical hope than the words “I am with you always.” These words portray a reality so glorious that it is impossible to overstate its magnitude. It is the ultimate game changer. It is the best of all good news. These words carry with them help and comfort that can be found nowhere else. And important here is that these words express more than a promise; they capture a state of being for every believer living through the harsh things.
“And behold, I am with you always” (Matt. 28:20). It is important to note that Jesus spoke these words to his disciples while they were being commissioned to give their lives as agents of his great redemptive mission. Jesus ended his commission with these words because he knew the world he was sending his disciples into, and he knew what they would face. He knew that their way would be difficult and their job uncomfortable. He knew that they would face constant opposition, misunderstanding, accusation, and rejection. He knew that they would be chased and imprisoned, persecuted and beaten, and that many of them would give their lives for his cause.
What’s important to understand, for our purposes, about the context of these beautiful words is that they were spoken to give comfort to sufferers. Jesus was commissioning his own to suffer for his sake. But he would not let them suffer alone. He would not let them suffer in their own strength. He would not leave them to their own political standing. He would not let them rely on their own wisdom. He would give these loyal suffering ones the best assurance ever—that he would always be with them. He would not think of sending them into the cruelty of this fallen world without going with them. He knew what they were facing, and he would give them what they needed, and, more than anything else, what they needed was him.
There are times when we try to comfort or assure a sufferer with words. We try to say just the right thing:
“I really do care for you.”
“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this.”
“I am there for you.”
“You’re surrounded by people who love you.”
“There’ll be a light at the end of this tunnel.”
“This too will pass.”
When we say these things, we are sincere and well intentioned, but the words tend to ring empty. The reason is that they are spoken by frail human beings who have little ability to alter the circumstances that are causing the suffering. We can be sympathetic, we can help in certain ways, but our potential to make a significant difference is very limited. We look for things to say because we don’t know what else to do.
But it is not so with God. His words are never empty but carry a level of power and authority that’s hard for us to grasp. When, in your suffering, you reflect on the words, “I am with you always,” remember that these words are spoken by the God of Isaiah 40. Take time now to read it.
In Isaiah 40 the prophet stretches human language as far as he can to somehow, someway help us get just a little picture of the magnitude of God’s grandeur and love. God is not like us. He is the definition of wisdom, faithfulness, power, and love. There is nothing or no one not under his rule. And he exercises his power so that we will never, ever be left alone. As we noted earlier, you can be stripped of everything in life on which you’ve depended and not have lost everything, because it is impossible for any of God’s children, no matter what is going on, to lose him.
Now, a little bit of biblical history would be helpful here. In the Old Testament God promised to be with his children, but that promise meant something different then than it does today. When the tabernacle was built, the shekinah glory of God filled the Most Holy Place. God, in a cloud of glory, made his physical presence visible. In a real way, the tabernacle was his residence among his people. This meant that he was present with his people, but to experience his presence, they had to go to where he was. But in the New Testament when Jesus speaks to his disciples of his presence, he is alerting them to what would happen as the result of his life, death, and resurrection. No longer would his children need to go to the temple to experience his presence; instead, his people would become the place where he lives.
Yes, it is true—if you are God’s child, he has unbuttoned you and gotten inside of you. We don’t have to go where God is, because we are where he is. Whether you sense it or not, he lives in you. Whether or not you have sought his help on a particular day, he lives inside you. Whether, in your suffering, you have forgotten, ignored, or gotten mad at him, he lives inside you. Whether in your travail you have run to him or attempted to run from him, he lives inside you. There is no escaping his presence. There is no such thing as being beyond the reach of his care. He is with you in every moment of your travail, because he lives inside you.
When you are sitting in the doctor’s office, you’ve carried him there with you. In your moment of physical pain, he is right there with you. When a loved one has turned his back on you, he is still right there with you. When you’ve gotten devastating news, he is there with you. When you’re distressed and confused, he is with you. No matter how hard and dark your situation, you are never alone, because you’ve carried him with you wherever you go and into whatever hard thing you’re experiencing.
Your Lord, in all his power and glory, in the full expression of his mercy and grace and with your welfare in mind, is always with you because you are the place where he now lives. God’s presence is not just your hope; it’s your identity as a child of God. There’s no better hope for a sufferer. All that God is, he is for us, because he lives inside us. He is near to you in your suffering; in fact, he couldn’t be nearer, because you are the temple in which he resides. But there is more.
“I Will Not Leave You or Forsake You”
“I will not leave you or forsake you.” This promise found in Joshua 1:5 is given numerous times in Scripture. Every time one of God’s children or the whole community of God’s children faced something hard, new, difficult, or overwhelming, God greeted them with this promise. He never called them to a task, sent them to a destination, or led them into difficulty and then abandoned them. No matter how hard the situation or inadequate their response, God was with them and for them. The declaration that he would never leave them is a significant reminder and protection for everyone who suffers.
First, these words are a humbling reminder that God remains faithful to us no matter what, not because of what is in us, but because of what’s in him. If the consistency of my prayer or the faithfulness of my worship or the constancy of my obedience were what bought me his continued presence, he would have forsaken me long ago. I know it is true of me, and I’m sure it’s true of you, that in moments of travail, I often fall way below God’s standard. Sometimes confusion interrupts my prayer, or wonderment about what God is doing gets in the way of heartfelt worship. Sometimes I listen too much to the lies of the Enemy or feel too weak to do what God has commanded. Sometimes my heart is filled with more envy than gratitude, and my mouth speaks more complaint than praise. Sometimes I would rather have relief from pain than the sweetness of his presence. Sometimes I’m just mad that God has let such hard things enter my door. There are moments when I don’t want to read his Word or hear songs of his goodness. Sometimes in my travail, I avoid the fellowship of his people. Sometimes I take my pain out on those around me.
My track record is far from perfect. I couldn’t buy God’s faithful presence with my performance. If I had to earn the right to have him stay with me, I would have no hope. Suffering exposes weaknesses, not just in a physical body or in our relationships but also in our hearts. Difficulty exposes weak joy, weak love, and fickle worship. Suffering reminds us that we are not as righteous as we’ve thought and not as faithful as we’ve confessed to be. Suffering brings you and me to the end of ourselves. It exposes and confronts us. It makes it harder and harder to hold on to the delusion of our righteousness. This is why it is so important to remember that God is faithful to us, not because we are righteous, but because he is. He continues to love us, not because we perfectly love him, but because his love for us remains perfect. He remains near, not because we’ve never thought of running away, but because he would never turn his back on the promises he’s made to us. You didn’t earn his faithful presence by your obedience, and your disobedience won’t take it away. The central message of Scripture is that God is with us forever because of one thing and one thing alone: his grace!
In your suffering, with so many things to worry about, you don’t have to waste your spiritual and emotional energy on the fear that you will be forsaken by the One who has the power to do for you what no one else can. He is in you, he is with you, he is for you, and he will never leave.
God’s promise to never forsake us is not only a huge and comforting reminder as our sin and our suffering combine into a messy and embarrassing mix, but it’s a significant spiritual protection as well. One of the most regular and devious attacks of the Enemy is exposed, by these words, as a lie that it is. Like the lion who chases the herd of deer to get them running and expose the weak ones, so Satan does his horrible work when and where we are weak. His lies have the power to deepen your desperation and weaken your resolve. They have the power to make you feel that you’ve been taken advantage of and duped. They have the power to make you wonder why you followed God in the first place, why you believed so many things you couldn’t prove. Suffering makes us susceptible to the one voice we should never hear and that will always do us harm.
The central lie of Satan to all God’s suffering children comes in the form of this question: “Where is your God now?” The lie embedded in this question is that our suffering is clear evidence that we have been forsaken by God. And if God would leave us to such travail, how is he worthy of our trust? It is a direct attack on the truthfulness and goodness of God. Satan is not so much mocking us for having believed as he is attacking the character of the One who has “tricked” us into believing by huge promises that our suffering now proves were never true. How horrible to rob suffering people of their only place to look for hope. Satan’s question—“Where is your God now?”—doesn’t expose God’s untrustworthiness; it exposes the utter hatred of the Father of Lies.
God’s often-repeated declaration that he will not leave sits on the pages of his Word as a protection against the lies to which suffering makes us susceptible. He has told you he will never leave so that when Satan tries to convince you that you have been forsaken, you will not listen. His words are a warning of temptations that every sufferer faces. His words are meant to ease your panic and erase your fear. When Satan tells you that God has turned his back on you, God’s words are meant to remind you that he still holds you close and carries you near his heart.
With his here-forever presence comes his here-forever wisdom, his here-forever grace, his here-forever strength, his here-forever authority, his here-forever love, his here-forever mercy, his here-forever righteousness, and his here-forever patience. Everything in life ends or dies in some way. Nothing in this world remains the same forever. Many of the things we bank on end up failing us in the end. But God never will.
In an indescribable act of unmerited grace, he has made you the place where he lives, and in the faithfulness of that grace he will never walk away from you. In your suffering you will again and again fail to say or do the right thing. Under the weight of difficulty, you will lose your way for a while. You will drag yourself out of bed only to have a debilitating day of spiritual struggle. You will get very sad or very mad. One moment you will long for people to be with you and the next moment wish they would leave you alone. You won’t always be comforted by the words of your loved ones, and there will be moments when you will wish they’d stop saying the things they say. Sometimes you will rest in God’s rule, and other times you will be haunted by the future.
But in all the emotional and spiritual ups and downs, on the good days and the bad days, when you fight or succumb, one thing is for sure. Your Lord is with you, and there is no struggle without or war within that will ever drive him away. And his presence guarantees that in your suffering, you will have everything you need.
Review and Reflect
1. What are the benefits of preaching Scripture’s truths to yourself when you are suffering? Which biblical truths help you the most?
2. Our culture defines hope differently from how the Bible defines it. Considering this chapter, how would you define hope?
3. Paul Tripp lists many statements about God’s character. Which are most encouraging to you? Which had you not considered before now?
4. What are the daily implications of God promising to always be with you?
5. After finishing the chapter, how do you understand Paul Tripp’s point that suffering can be a blessing and a joy?
Heart Reset
Joshua 1:5
Isaiah 40:1–31
Matthew 28:20