This morning, if you have your copy of God's Word, I would invite your attention to the 77th Psalm, Psalms chapter number 77. Someone, a preacher that I like to listen to, called the Psalms God's medicine chest. And so we'll endeavor to reach in there today and try to find a little balm for our soul. Psalm 77, I'm going to read all 20 verses to you. I cried unto my God with my voice, even unto God with my voice. And he gave ear unto me. In the day of my trouble, I sought the Lord. My sore, my pain, my sorrow, my wounds ran in the night and ceased not. My soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God and was troubled. I complained and my spirit was overwhelmed. And then there's that musical note, Selah. And there's always debate among preachers, do you say it or not say it? It's a musical note. And the idea there is that you would stop, meditate, and contemplate on what has just been said. In Hebrew writing, it meant slow down. Focus on what has just been said. We'll come across it again in this song. Verse four, thou holdest mine eyes waking. I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I've considered the days of old, the years of ancient times. I call to remember, it's my song in the night. I commune with my own heart, and my spirit made diligent search. Will the Lord cast off forever? And will he be favorable no more? Is his mercy clean gone forever? Doth his promises fail forevermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Hath He in anger shut up His tender mercies? Selah. And I said, this is my infirmity. But I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High. I will remember the works of the Lord. Surely I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all thy work and talk of all thy doings. Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary. Who is so great a God as our God? Thou art the God that doest wonders. Thou hast declared thy strength among the people. Thou hast with thine arm redeemed thy people, the sons of Jacob and Joseph. Selah. The water saw thee, O God, the water saw thee. They were afraid. The depths also were troubled. The clouds poured out water. The skies sent out a sound. Thine arrows also went abroad. The voice of thy thunder was in the heaven. The lightnings lightened the world. The earth trembled and shook. Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known. Thou leadest thy people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron. I preach to you today on the subject of finding courage in the midst of crisis. finding courage in the midst of crisis. As we gather together in this place on this day, I am, we all are confronted with our own weakness, our own frailty. At moments like this, what can be said? Words seem so insignificant, so trivial, so frail. What words are there? What healing can we offer? In my own brokenness, I want to sit down and cry. and let someone else try and come up with some magical incantation that will turn back time or assuage the pain. Yet Christian, I ask, are we without hope because we may feel hopeless? Should we abandon our God because sometimes it feels like God has abandoned us? If, like me, your faith seems small and fragile, ought we to abandon it altogether? Is Wally's death meaningless because we struggle to find meaning? Of course not. Certainly not. This much I assure you, the same God that allowed Wally to be right here in our presence in this place just one week ago, has translated our brother into His presence right now. And if we could see what Wally could see, we would rejoice and not mourn. But you know what the problem is? We can't. We can't. And I would like to say I have found complete peace in knowing that our brother is with the Lord, but I haven't. Is that a measure of peace? Sure it is. But if I'm going to be honest, I'd rather have him here than there. Our faith compels us to trust God and His purposes, yet maybe you feel like your faith is faltering, fleeing away. Maybe you're asking, why? Why? Just why? And as we ask these questions, maybe there's a measure of guilt that surrounds it, but it shouldn't. When we ask difficult questions of God or God's purposes, It makes us seem or perhaps even feel weak, but it shouldn't. I want you to realize that when you ask questions like you've been asking yourself the last few days, you are not the first believer to do that and you will not be the last. Regardless of what some charlatan television evangelist might try and tell you, becoming a Christian does not exempt you from trials, troubles, and tribulations. We live in a fallen world, a world that has been cursed by sin, and tragedy strikes believers and non-believers. Solomon said it like this in Ecclesiastes, there is an event common to all. All things come to all men. In other words, just because you may be a adamant follower of Jesus of Nazareth does not exempt you from the troubles of life. When tornadoes come and hurricanes, it makes no difference. That storm doesn't make any difference between a Christian's house and a non-Christian's home. Tragedy comes to all alike. And when it comes, it can cause us to question our faith, sometimes perhaps even question God himself. At least we ask, why does God bring? Why does God allow these things to happen? Countless Christians have faced some trial and wondered, where was God? I want you to see today that this is not abnormal, it's normal. It is normal to ask, why? It is allowable. And in fact, in our text that we have read together this morning, we read of a man named Asaph who was himself floundering. He too was struggling to hold on to hope when the dark clouds of despair had settled over his soul. He was searching for courage and strength in the midst of his own calamity. But Asaph found that courage. He found that strength and so too can we. And I pray that together God will help us like He did Asaph through the process of lament to find courage and confidence in the midst of crisis. I would ask you to note with me that the prescript, if you'll look there at Psalm 77, it tells us who the author is of this psalm. to the chief musician, to Jejathan, a psalm of Asaph. This was written from the human end, written by Asaph. Now, if you don't know who Asaph is, let me introduce you to him, okay? Asaph was a singer and a musician who lived during the reigns of King David and King Solomon. Asaph was the author of a number of the Psalms, including this very one that we are studying together today. And apparently Asaph had been given this wonderful, powerful voice, and he had used it consistently to honor God. It seems at some point he was in charge or at least one of the men responsible for leading Israel in the public worship of God. Asaph was what we might call Israel's choir director. He was their song leader, if you will. He was a gifted man. Bible says that he was a seer or a prophet. He was a songwriter and he was a poet. Yet Asaph was also a man. And as such, he was well acquainted with the difficulties of life in a fallen world. And as we approach this psalm, I want to remind you of something. I want to remind you that as we read this, we are reading song lyrics. Lyrics written, then set to music, and then sung by the Levites in the corporate worship of God. These psalms would be written, handed down, and taught to a future generation of Israelites. And one of the great reasons behind this is so that we and others before us and after us can learn from the brokenness and emptiness of Asaph. This is one of God's inspired hymns from His inspired hymn book. This was a spiritual song written to be sung by the nation during public corporate worship. Yet don't forget, there is a very human side to this psalm. Is it divinely inspired? Yes. Is it preserved for us? Yes. Yet at the same time, this psalm was written by a man. A broken man. And for a season, for a measure of time, Asaph, This gifted singer, this song leader had no song to sing. Asaph had lost his joy and the ability to lift his voice up in praise. And in his hours of suffering, Asaph did what any good songwriter does. He reached for pen and parchment and poured out his pain on the page. This is a psalm of lament. In fact, it is one of many psalms of lament. And while lamenting is something that we seem to know too little about and practice far too seldom, yet it is a biblical behavior that helps heal the soul and will ultimately bring praise to God. Don't forget, dear friends, behind the black and white of the words on the page, there was a very real man who faced very real trials. And this was a man who was even busy serving God. A man who was employing the gifts that God had given him in the service and worship of God. Asaph was a God-fearing man, yet he went through great hardship. This psalm is his pain put on paper. A psalm that vocalizes his journey to find courage in the midst of crisis. Asaph did not pen these words while he was standing atop some spiritual mountaintop. Asaph penned these words from a deep, dark valley. It is evident he was in turmoil and in pain And maybe we wonder, what happened to Asaph? What tragedy prompted the writing of this psalm? Why did he lend his pain to the page? What happened to Asaph? And the answer is, we have no idea what happened. We just don't know. But that doesn't stop commentators from speculating. Some suggest that it was some type of national tragedy that occurred that emptied Asaph's being. Others say it was a foreign invasion or some natural disaster. And while I cannot say definitively, Asaph's pain seems to be far more personal than national. In verse 2, he speaks of the day of my trouble, not our trouble, my trouble. He makes mention of his soul, his sores, his wounds. We don't know what happened to Asaph, but something broke this man. Something emptied him out. Was it the death of a child? Was Asaph battling depression? Had his spouse been suddenly taken away? We just don't know. But here's what we do know. Asaph was honest about his struggles. One lesson that we learn about the practice of lament is that it is okay to be real with God. Did you hear me this morning? It is okay to be real with God. If we learn nothing else from Asaph, we learn this, it is perfectly acceptable to be candid with your Creator. It's okay. In fact, it's good to pour out your true feelings and your absolute brokenness before God. Listen, when you're talking to the Almighty, You don't have to sugarcoat it. My friends, it is possible to be real and reverential at the same time. No, we don't want to dishonor God. We don't want to be disrespectful. But can I remind you, God is not injured by the frail words of fallen men. Allow yourself to be broken while not belittling God. Be true about your trials. Be plain about your pain. Asaph was, and I am sorry for his suffering, but we are the beneficiaries of his grief. Asaph teaches us how to be both honest and humble. How we can be straight up with God without demeaning God. And this, friends, is what Lamentations is all about. It is about pouring out our complaints, giving voice to our grief. But listen to me, because it doesn't just end there. This is not just about vocalizing our pain. Asaph teaches us the most important lesson about dealing with loss and crisis is that we must never give up on God. We must never give up on God. As we work our way through this text, we are going to share in Asaph's pain in the midst of our own pain. But I want you to learn. that to lament biblically means you never walk away from God. Lament leads to God. We hurt, we question, our faith is challenged, we vocalize our grief, but we also realize what Asaph realized, and that there is only one true source of help in this world. Now listen to me. There's only one source of divine help. And that's from the omnipotent hands of the Almighty. I'm sure Asaph had friends who sought to help him in his hour of need. Whatever befell Asaph in the 77th Psalm, I'm sure he had some friends come around to try and encourage him. We only pray that Asaph's friends were better than Job's friends. And yet as we as a church family walk through this trial as the Dean family struggles, we want to be friends to them. We want to be a help to them. But do you know, right, there's only so much that we can do. There's only so much help that we can offer. because we're hindered by our own hurt. We're constrained by our own distress. We are processing this ourself. We too are trying to find courage in the midst of crisis. And there's a limit to how much we can actually do. But aren't you glad this morning that nothing is too hard for God? And as I heard Wally Dean pray many times in this building, at hours like this, that God can give a peace that passes all understanding to those that will trust in Him. Asaph's lament teaches us we must not, we cannot find true lasting strength apart from God Himself. I have preached enough funerals to know And you see it, I know it, as soon as that last Amen is said, people are going to go looking for help in some avenue. And usually it comes in a bottle of some kind. But the only source of lasting strength and help is God Almighty. Nothing is too hard for Him. Though the waves of despair continue to break over the bow, Asaph refuses to abandon ship. He clings to his faith, even if it's weak, in search of hope. In this Psalm, Asaph tenaciously pursues God. One commentator compared Asaph to a bloodhound on a trail searching for an elusive fugitive. And like that bloodhound, Asaph refuses to leave the trail searching for courage in the midst of crisis. Searching for comfort in the midst of his calamity. Will he find his fugitive? Well, let's follow him on this journey. Let's join him in this lament. And we are going to be honest with God while yet being humble. For we believe we need God. Resting in his bosom, embracing him is how we find courage in the midst of crisis. Now are you ready? That was just my sermon opening. But we're going to move quickly, okay? It's top-heavy. I'm going to make five divisions within this psalm, and we're going to jet through them, except for one. First, I want you to notice that Asaph was heard, but he was not healed. Heard, but not healed. In verse 1 he says, I cried out unto God with my voice. One of the first things Asaph did in the midst of his strive was he turned to God. Isn't it a truth that very often we turn everywhere else except to God? Asaph cried aloud to God with his voice. This was not simply him crying out from inside. He vocalized his pain. He lamented. He publicly mourned. Notice in verse 1, even unto God with my voice and God heard me. He gave ear unto me. So he was heard But keep reading. In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord. My sore or my wounds, my pains ran into the night. It did not ease up, it did not cease, yet my soul refused to be comforted. He says, God heard me, but so far God hasn't healed me from this pain. My soul refused to be comforted. I cried to God. I called out. But the pain was still there. And I promise you, friends, this is life 101 for the Christian. Just because you've been heard doesn't mean you'll immediately be healed. God hears the cries of His righteous ones. He bottles up our tears. They are precious to Him. But that doesn't mean that He will immediately alleviate your strife. My soul refused to be comforted. In fact, in verse 3, He says, I remembered God. And you may think at this point, he's going to say, okay, I remembered God and things got better, but that's not what Asaph says. I remembered God and was troubled. When I thought about God, it actually hurt. It troubled me because I couldn't process what was going on. I know God. I know a little bit about God. But when I think about who He is, and then I, deal with this pain that I'm in, I can't put that together. It grieves me. In fact, verse 3, my spirit was overwhelmed. It seems like Asaph is saying, when I remember God's past goodness, it actually made things worse instead of better. He was heard, but He was not healed. But then in verses 7-9, I'm sorry, verses 4-6, I'm trying to skip ahead, not that fast. Verses 4-6, Asaph is searching, but he's not finding. Verses 4-6, he says, God, you're keeping me up at night. I bet nobody in this building could say that. God, you're keeping me up, you've taken sleep away. I am so troubled. Now I want you to listen. I want you to look at verse 4. This is a man with a God-given voice. This is a songwriter. This is a leader of Israel. And what does he say? I don't even have words. I am so troubled that I cannot speak. Asaph is real. And so is your pain. When God takes away your sleep at night, when some crisis, some calamity comes into your life and it empties you out so much that it robs you of sleep, it robs you of peace. You're calling out, but you don't feel like you're being delivered from it. And in fact, it can get to the point where you say, I don't even have words anymore. Verse 5, I've considered the days of old. The years of ancient times, I remember God's past goodness. Searching for answers. Verse 6, I call to remember. It's my song in the night. I think about these other things that I've said about God in my other writings, the other psalms that I've written in the night. I commune with my own heart. My spirit makes diligent search. And there's almost like, ok, it is building and ok, here it comes, here comes this great freeing, alleviating, thunderous praise. But that's not what Esau does. Because he's searching, but he's not finding. He's looking for answers, but he can't find them. He searches his own soul. He communes with that which he's written before. He thinks about God's past goodness. He is searching for answers, but he can't find them. Do you ever feel that way? Where you're searching, but you're not finding? But then now in verses 7-9, Asaph is asking, but knowing. I'm going to hammer right here for a few minutes. Because in verses 7 through 9, Asaph asks six rhetorical questions. And like all rhetorical questions, he knows the answer. But at that moment, You ready? At that moment, what Asaph knew and how Asaph felt were far, far apart from one another. What he knew and how he felt were far apart. And in that moment of his grief, as he tried to process his pain, what he knew about God and how he felt about God were so far apart that it led to this pouring out of these questions, not attacking God, but he is asking some questions about God. He asked these questions. Think on these. Will the Lord cast off forever? Has He cast us away? Has He thrown us away? Has He treated us as if we are rubbish and just thrown us away forever? Where is His compassion? Where is His care for us? Will He be favorable no more? Is His mercy clean, gone forever? Does His promise fail forevermore? Do you see the realness of Asaph's questions? How real these rhetorical questions are. Now he's asking them, but he knows the answer. But he's still asking them. Verse 9, Is God forgotten to be gracious? Has He shut up His anger? Has God's mercy bank gone bankrupt? Has God run out of mercy? Now of course, the answer to these questions is no, a thousand times no. Yet we join with Asaph in our pain asking some of the very same questions. Now maybe we don't use just the same words. Maybe our inquiries are not exactly alike, but nonetheless they are getting at the heart of the real thing. Where was God? Why did it God? Why? Oh God. If you've lived the Christian life long, you've asked those questions. And over the last few days, many in this building have asked that question numerous times. and will continue to. Why God? Why did you allow this? Where was your favor? Where was your mercy? Have you forgotten to be gracious? If you think it's wrong to ask why, then you hadn't read the Psalms carefully enough. Our journey to healing, listen to me, our journey to healing, lamenting, must not stop with asking questions. We'll get there. But in the meantime, God is not somehow less God because those puny little humans are asking questions. God, are you really in control? God, are you really on the throne? God, are you really in charge? Then why? Don't you know how much we need Wally Dean? Don't you know what this has done to his family, to this church family? And like Asaph, we know at least some of the answers to our questions, but we still ask them. Do you believe that God does all things well? Do you know that God is sovereign and He is good? Do you know that He is fair, honest, and judicious in all of His actions? That God cannot be accused of evil in any way? Do you know that? But isn't there a disconnect between what you know and how you feel sometimes? Oh, we need to be reminded, God has not run out of mercy. Asaph, no, his mercy's not gone forever. His promises have not failed. He's not forgotten to be gracious. He hasn't shut up his tender mercies. God is still God and He's still on the throne. The Almighty has not lost control, not for a moment. Pain obscures this view of God. And maybe we will never know the whys, but we know God has a purpose in all that He does. Friends, listen to me. This is no time to abandon our belief in the sovereignty of God. This is no time to abandon our belief that God is the absolute sovereign of the universe and does as He pleases among the armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth and none can stay His hand or say unto Him, what doest thou? Daniel 4.35. But questions like these spoken by us, spoken by Asaph, And by others reeling in their anguish, they have their place. Do you not find it interesting that the same God who put Asaph in the place of suffering is the same God who inspired Asaph to pen these words questioning God? I'm going to say this. I want you to hear it. God was not shaken by Asaph's six rhetorical questions. God will not be shaken by your questions, Christian. Nor is it evidence of weak faith. Nor is it proof of poor theology. It's just human. It's normal. It's part of the grieving process. I'm gonna share this with you. John Piper calls ASAPH, these words like ASAPH, these six questions, John Piper calls these wind words. W-I-N-D, wind words. Words that don't really describe what we know, just how we feel at that moment. Words that vocalize our grief, our pain, that don't necessarily make good theological sense. But like the wind, those words will vanish away. They will drift off and be forgotten. Here is my counsel, when someone is in a deep, dark valley, and they say some things, Things that maybe they should know better. Things that you know and they know aren't true, aren't theologically true. They're just wind words. Let them go. Let them blow away. Let them fly away. Time and grace will help heal heart and mind. No dear friends, God has not cast us away. He's not forgotten. God has not made a mistake. The Lord has not run out of mercy. God loves Wally Dean more than you and I can even comprehend. He loved him with an everlasting love, a love so deep and so true that death itself did not separate him from that love. In fact, Wally's untimely death only unveiled heavenly aspects of God's gracious love. And what is interesting here is that when Asaph asks these questions, it actually reminds him of who God is. And this is where things begin to shift for Asaph. And in verses 10 through 15, we find Asaph turning and trusting. Verse number 10, and I said, this is my infirmity, this is my pain. But, you notice those words, but I will remember. He was tenaciously pursuing, just because he had been heard and not been healed, he didn't quit. And just because he was asking questions that he knew better, that doesn't mean he quit. He kept doggedly pursuing after God. And that's my challenge to you today, believer. Doggedly, tenaciously pursue after God, for He alone can bring you any measure of lasting comfort in the midst of crisis. I will remember the works of the Lord. I will remember. Do you see him turning and trusting this remembrance? I will meditate on thy work, thy doings, thy way. Verse 13 is in the sanctuary. It is interesting to compare the question of verse 13 as to those in verses 7 through 9. Who is a God like our God? Who is a God as great as our God? Do you see how he is now beginning to turn? And to some degree, Asaph is turning from self and seeing only his sovereign. And in our own hearts and lives, there must be a turning, a lamenting that begins to shift our direction God worked. Hear me now. This is not a one-time process. This is not an instant process. It's not a one-time action, but it is a continual turning. If you will study this Psalm, what you're going to find out is high, low, high, low, high, low, because that's how life is, especially in the midst of crisis. Day by day, moment by moment, pouring out complaint, wanting to trust, yet refusing to let go of God, Asaph began to turn into trust. I read this illustration. And I think it is as good as any that I've read. I would have you to imagine that there are three men walking on a narrow ledge. The first man, his name is fact. The second man, his name is faith. And the third man, his name is feeling. Fact is leading, not feeling. You know what happens to us if we allow our feelings to direct our paths? It will not lead to a place of certainty or safety. But there's between feeling and fact, there's faith. If faith begins to look backwards at feeling, you're going to fall off the ledge. Feelings must look to our faith, and our faith must look forward to facts. I don't always feel like a Christian. So I'm going to look at my faith. I'm questioning God. I'm in the middle of despair. I'm hurting. My feelings are weak. I'm going to look forward to my faith. And Christian, your faith is based on the facts of the Word of God, that Jesus is who He claimed to be, the only Savior of lost sinners. Your faith looks to the fact that Christ came to this earth and lived the life that I should have lived, died the death that I deserve, buried and rose again and is interceding right now for me. My faith looks forward to that and when I don't feel so good, my feelings look forward to my faith and my faith hangs on to the facts that are revealed in this book. That is the only thing that is sure footing in this world. Look forward, not backwards. Faith bridges that gap between how we feel and what we know. And then, finally, refusing to let go of God, and after meditating on God's goodness, Asaph finds a measure of peace. In verses 16 through 20. Marveling and resting. Asaph now marvels and rest in God. And you know what's really interesting? Is the man who said, I don't have a voice, I can't sing, I can't write, all of a sudden now Asaph finds his poetic license again. And he begins to write some rich, wonderful, poetic language about the majesty of his maker. Verse 16, the waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee, they were afraid, the depths trembled, the clouds poured, the sky sent out a sound, you sent your arrows abroad, the voice of thunder was in heaven, the lightning shook the world, the earth trembled. All of a sudden, now Asaph's able to write again. This lament journey, this absolute unwillingness to let go of God has brought him to a place of peace, a measure of peace. And ultimately what Asaph is writing about in the last few verses of this psalm is God's deliverance of Israel out of Egypt. I am convinced that what Asaph has in mind right here is when Israel is facing the Red Sea, nowhere to go, and behind them there is Pharaoh and all of his armies. And they are caught in a place where there is no escape. And then God parts the Red Sea and delivers them, miraculously delivers them. In other words, Asaph is marveling at the redemptive work of God Almighty. He is marveling at how God delivered His people, and he's resting in that because Asaph is thinking, you know what? God parted the waters. You know, they didn't go around the Red Sea, they went through the Red Sea. You're not going to go around this, you're going to go through this. God parted the waters, and the same God that I love can deliver me from this. If He can part the waters and thunder from the heavens, if He can send out arrows from the sky, if He can bring miracles out of absolute brokenness, if God can do that, He can get me out of this. whatever this trial was. And hear me now, I'm winding down. Asaph marveled at the redemptive work of God. He rested in the redemptive work of God. And I don't know, I don't know of anything better that you and I can rest in than the redemptive work of God in the behalf of Wally Dean. I don't have anything better to offer you than to say to you, his soul was safe in the arms of Jesus. He had confessed, he had repented of his sins, he had placed his faith in Christ the Messiah, and he was ready. I've got nothing better for you than to say, hey listen, as Robbie alluded to earlier, we are all going to face death. It is coming. We don't know when. I remember preaching. I remember preaching and I said, you can be here today and gone tomorrow. And then I said, you can be here today and gone today. And I remember Wally saying amen. I remember because I don't get many of them, so I remember when they happen. But that's how it is. The only real true hope that I can offer to you is that Wally's days of suffering are ended. He's entered into the rest that God has prepared for him. Marvel in the redemptive work of God Almighty in the behalf of a wayward sinner even like Wally Dane. You want to find courage because I think it takes courage. That's why I title this sermon this. I think it takes courage to keep holding on and to refuse to let go and to keep chasing after God. I think it takes courage to do that. The greatest hope we have is that Wally is now at peace with his Maker. He is fully at rest with Him. And Asaph learned the apex of finding comfort in the midst of crisis is knowing the finished work of God in my behalf. That's the apex. When we hurt, when we struggle, and we will, marvel and rest in the great love that God has for His people. Last Thursday, Brother Wally went right from Byron to Beulah Land. from his earthly tabernacle to heaven. And let us rest in this that God has given us this assurance. Verse 20, you led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron. But last Thursday morning, Christ himself led Wally through the valley of the shadow of death and there was no fear because his shepherd was with him. He was with him. Now I want you to notice something, and I'm going to quit, okay? Now I'm only preaching once, so you'll be alright. I want you to know that there's something vital here that you remember. We followed Asaph, I hope, on this journey. But do you realize, as far as we know, Asaph's circumstances hadn't changed. His situation hadn't changed. The change was in Asaph, not in the situation or the circumstance. Yet he had found the courage to cling to faith even in the midst of his crisis. And it would be silly of us to suppose that any kind of healing is going to be immediate and lasting. The kind of pain Asaph felt, the kind of pain that we feel is too deep, too strong to just go away. When we leave here today, our brother will still be missing. And we're going to miss one of the finest men that I've ever known, yet we will not abandon the God that Wally loved and served. We may doubt, we may struggle, but our certainty of eternity keeps us pressing on. Asaph probably had to travel through this lament many times, and so too must we. We may question God's plans and purposes, but we can never really question God's love. There are dark clouds hovering overhead, but there is deep mercy to be found in the bottomless wells of God's grace. Asaph found his voice again. Asaph began to write again. Like a relentless bloodhound, Asaph stayed on the trail till he found his fugitive faith. May God help us to lament, and may this lament lead us to marvel at God's mercy. There are going to be days when you're going to feel like you've been heard but you've not been healed. Times when you're searching but you're not finding. You're going to ask, yet you're knowing. But ultimately, I want you to marvel and rest in the redemptive work of God Almighty. Do you know Him today? If this doesn't make it as plain and as vivid, Do you know Jesus Christ today and the power of His resurrection? Would you forgive me if this sounds inappropriate? You may not be here next Sunday. Can I stand up and preach a message to the church saying we have every confidence that you are in heaven resting with Christ? That's how real this is. That's how real this is. Our life is but a vapor that ascends for a short season, then vanishes away. Thank you for your patience, your time.