Psalms 125

It can become progressively difficult to trust in God in the midst of difficult times. Sometimes we can falsely get the idea that our walk with Christ should be free from problems and trials.

Yet Jesus states that it rains on the just and the unjust. Bad things do happen to good people.

The question becomes: "How do we deal with such things?"

It's hard isn't it. It's difficult. We live for God, do our best, we sin and ask for forgiveness, are faithful to God and still we walk through bad times.

Psalms 125 wrestles with that question.

Like handrails going up or down a steep slope, this Psalms provides grips that we can hang on to in the midst of difficult times.

Some thoughts:

What shakes you up will not shake you apart.

1 Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount Zion,
which cannot be shaken but endures forever.

When you trust in God during difficult times, God will make you as solid, as strong as Mount Zion. Immovable.

2 As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
so the LORD surrounds his people
both now and forevermore.

Nothing can penetrate God's inner ring of protection for you. God forms an inner circle around you in the midst of difficult times that is your source of care and protection. I like that.

3 The scepter of the wicked will not remain
over the land allotted to the righteous,
for then the righteous might use
their hands to do evil.

4 Do good, O LORD, to those who are good,
to those who are upright in heart.

Let's watch for the good that God will do.

I can't ultimately tell you why bad things happen to good people. But I do know God and I know that he can be trusted. God always helps us to overcome evil with good.

5 But those who turn to crooked ways
the LORD will banish with the evildoers.

Bad times must not become an excuse for bad living. We can never go wrong doing the right thing. It's important to continue living right when everything is going wrong.
Peace be upon Israel.

Listen to this story:

In the autumn of 1873, Horatio Spafford, a wealthy Chicago businessman, placed his wife, Anna, and their four children on the Ville du Havre sailing from New York to France. He was forced to stay in the United States for several more weeks to settle some business matters before he could journey to join the family in Europe.

The evening of November 21 found the Ville du Havre prow-east toward France on a calm Atlantic. The journey was progressing beautifully. A few hours later, about two o'clock in the morning on November 22, the Ville du Havre was carrying its sleeping passengers over a quiet sea when two terrific claps like thunder were followed by frightening screams. The engine stopped, the ship stood still. Passageways were filled with terrified, half-dressed people shouting questions that no one could answer. The Ville du Havre had been rammed by the English vessel, the Lochearn.

Mrs. Spafford saw three of her children swept away by the sea while she stood clutching the youngest child. Suddenly, she felt her baby torn violently from her arms. She reached out through the water and caught little Tanetta's gown. For a minute she held her again. Then the cloth wrenched from her hand. She reached out again and touched a man's leg in corduroy trousers. She became unconscious. She awoke later, finding that she had been rescued by sailors from the Lochearn. But her four children were gone.

In the meantime, Horatio Spafford was back in the United States, desperate to receive news of his family. Finally, the blow fell. A cable arrived from Wales stating that the four daughters were lost at sea, but his wife was still alive. He was crushed with what had happened. All night he walked the floor in anguish. Toward the morning he turned to his friend, Major Whittle, and said, "I am glad to trust the Lord when it will cost me something."

On the way across the Atlantic to join his wife, the captain announced that they were now passing the place where the Ville du Havre was wrecked. For Horatio Spafford, this was passing through the valley of the shadow of death. He sat down in his cabin on the high seas, near the place where his children perished, and wrote the hymn that would give comfort to so many, titled "It Is Well with My Soul."

Is it - well - with your soul today?