I started writing—or at least sending—the Singles Ministry newsletter about 11 years ago. It was probably a couple of years before I started signing my name to the blogs I wrote. In the beginning, they were very biblical and formal. Somewhere along the way, though, my voice and personality started sneaking into the writing. I guess it became more real.
Writing has always been one of the ways I talk to God and work through understanding His ways. I especially leaned into writing during mission trips. There is something about being in a foreign country, completely focused on God’s work, that seems to turn up the volume on His voice. He feels so much louder there.
I’ve often thought that people living in harder places, darker places, rely on God in ways we sometimes forget. Their faith is woven into everyday life because they depend on Him for things we often take for granted—water, food, health, and safety. Their dependence is visible.
Coming back to the United States after those trips was always a bit of a shock. We are incredibly blessed, but all of our comforts come with a lot of noise and distraction. It’s easy to forget that God is part of the picture at all. We may give Him a quick nod in the morning, but then move through our day as if we are the ones holding everything together.
Until life happens.
Reality hits.
Blessings fall short.
Suddenly, we remember how much we need Him.
That’s one reason Psalm 143 has always resonated with me.
This psalm feels like it was written by someone who has reached the end of himself. Not the end of his patience. Not the end of his energy. The end of himself.
David isn’t writing from a place of comfort or victory. He’s being hunted. He’s exhausted. He’s discouraged. He feels trapped by circumstances he can’t control and people who want to harm him. In verse 4 he writes, “Therefore my spirit faints within me; my heart within me is appalled.”
That’s not someone pretending everything is fine. That’s a man honestly pouring out his heart before God. Maybe that’s why believers have found comfort in this psalm for so many years.
Most of us know exactly what it feels like to carry a burden that seems too heavy. We know what it’s like when the future feels uncertain and problems seem bigger than solutions. David reminds us that faith isn’t pretending those feelings don’t exist. Faith is bringing them honestly before God.
What strikes me most is that David doesn’t stay focused on his problems.
Instead, he intentionally shifts his attention to God’s faithfulness.
“I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands.” (Psalm 143:5)
There is so much wisdom in that.
We have an amazing ability to forget God’s faithfulness the moment a new problem appears. God can provide for us, answer prayers, and carry us through situations that seemed impossible. Yet when the next challenge arrives, we sometimes act as though He has retired, moved away, and left no forwarding address.
We know He was faithful yesterday.
We know He was faithful last year.
We know He was faithful throughout Scripture.
Yet somehow we become convinced that this particular problem may finally be the one that leaves God scratching His head.
David understood something we often forget: remembering God’s faithfulness in the past strengthens our confidence in what He is doing today, even when we can’t see it.
Then David gives us one of the most beautiful images in all the Psalms.
“I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.” (Psalm 143:6)
Picture cracked earth after months without rain. Everything desperately waiting for water.
David says that’s what his soul feels like apart from God.
Desperate.
I think that’s why difficult seasons often deepen our relationship with God in ways comfortable seasons never can.
When life is going well, it’s easy to convince ourselves we’re in control. We make plans, set goals, organize calendars, and decide how everything should unfold.
Then life reminds us how fragile that illusion really is.
A phone call can change everything.
A diagnosis can change everything.
A loss can change everything.
Trials have a way of exposing how much we need God and how little we can do without Him.
As the psalm continues, David asks God to teach him the way he should go.
That sounds simple, but it’s actually a remarkable act of humility.
Most of us would rather make our plans and ask God to bless them afterward.
David does the opposite.
He asks God to lead.
That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.
Scripture is full of examples of people getting themselves into trouble when they trusted their own understanding more than God’s direction. Abraham tried helping God’s promise along. Jonah headed the opposite direction. Peter boldly promised loyalty and then denied Jesus before breakfast.
Again and again, Scripture reminds us that God’s guidance is better than our instincts, even when we don’t understand where He’s leading.
What I love most about Psalm 143 is that it doesn’t end with every problem solved.
David doesn’t suddenly announce that all his enemies disappeared. He doesn’t tell us that everything worked out overnight.
Instead, he rests in God’s character.
One of the most beautiful prayers in the chapter comes in verse 8:
“Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust.”
What a simple and powerful prayer.
Not, “Explain everything.”
Not, “Show me the next ten years.”
Not, “Provide charts, graphs, and supporting documentation.”
Just let me hear of Your steadfast love.
Sometimes that’s exactly what weary hearts need. Not more information. Not certainty about the future. Not guarantees that life will suddenly become easy.
Just the reminder that God is still faithful. Still present. Still working. Still loving. Still guiding. Still holding us, even when we’re too exhausted to hold on to Him.
Psalm 143 reminds us that our hope has never depended on the strength of our faith, the clarity of our circumstances, or our ability to understand what God is doing.
Our hope rests in the unchanging character of God Himself.
And that’s good news, because unlike us, He never grows weary, never loses sight of the situation, never forgets His promises, and never stops being faithful.
A few days ago, I was talking with my nephew about those times when God feels distant. We were discussing what it means to trust Him when we can’t feel His presence or clearly see what He’s doing.
He said something that has stayed with me.
“He is always one step away. No matter how far you go, He is never more than a step away.”
I loved that.
It reminded me of David’s prayer in Psalm 143. Even in his exhaustion, fear, and uncertainty, David knew where to turn. He stretched out his hands toward God because he trusted that God was still there.
Maybe that’s what some of us need to remember today.
No matter how overwhelmed we feel, no matter how far away God may seem, He hasn’t moved. He is still faithful. Still present. Still listening.
And perhaps He is only one step away.
For God and you,
Deb Bostwick
Singles Blogger