Someone asks how you are, and you say, “Fine, thanks.” Perhaps you are standing in the kitchen, putting the shopping away. You are tired, and explaining everything feels too much. So you smile and carry on.
Later, when the house is quiet, you try to pray. Again, you reach for the tidy answer. You thank God for the day, but leave something unsaid. Underneath the familiar words sits a question you hardly dare to ask: God, where are you in this?
If that sounds familiar, there is something for you in Psalm 88.
In verse thirteen, the writer prays, “O LORD, I cry out to you. I will keep on pleading day by day.”
Then comes this question in verse fourteen: “Why do you turn your face from me?”
These words belong together. He calls to God while feeling that God has turned away. His question is part of the conversation.
The surrounding verses describe suffering that has lasted for years. He feels overwhelmed and alone. By the final verse, there is still no visible relief. The psalm ends in darkness.
Yet this difficult prayer has been kept in Scripture. We are allowed to hear it. We are allowed to bring our own troubled words alongside it.
That offers a quiet kind of hope. We can speak to God from the place we actually find ourselves, including the place where his care feels hard to recognise.
Perhaps you have been careful with God because you love him. You worry that saying you feel disappointed would sound ungrateful. Perhaps your questions seem too sharp, or your sadness too untidy.
But listen again to the direction of this prayer. The writer brings his distress to God himself. Even his painful question has someone to address.
An honest question can keep a conversation open when easier words have run out.
Think again of that kitchen conversation. Sometimes, when someone who cares asks how you are, you manage to say, “Actually, today has been difficult.” The whole problem remains. But the person beside you can now hear what your polite answer concealed.
Prayer gives you room to speak with that same honesty. You can let the words beneath “I’m fine” be heard.
There may be tears with it. There may be a long silence before it comes. You can take your time. This conversation has room for the voice you have, weary and uncertain.
You might say, “God, I feel hurt.” Or perhaps the words are, “I cannot understand why this is happening.” You do not have to explain yourself perfectly. You can begin with what is true for you today.
Psalm 88 gives us no timetable for relief. We cannot promise that an honest sentence will make everything feel better. What it gives us is permission to keep speaking, even while the hurt remains.
So, sometime today, at home, tell God one thing you have been scared to say in prayer.
Just one thing.
Let it be a sentence, however hesitant. There is no need to tidy it up afterwards or hurry towards a cheerful ending. Allow that truth to stand before him.
If all you can manage is a question, let the question be your prayer. You are bringing the part of your life that aches into your conversation with God.
Question for you: What makes it difficult for you to be honest with God when you are hurting? Share only what you feel comfortable sharing in the comments.
Let us pray.
Lord, you know the words we hold back. Meet us gently as we bring you our hurt. Help us speak honestly when prayer feels difficult. Receive our questions and our unfinished sentences. Thank you for making room in Scripture for this troubled prayer. Give us courage to tell you what is true today. Amen.
Join me tomorrow as we explore the worry that unanswered prayer means we have failed at faith.