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Hope in our depressions (Psalm 88:1-18)

Mark BarnesMark Barnes, March 18, 2018
Part of the Hope in our struggles series, preached at a Sunday Morning service

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https://www.bethel-clydach.co.uk/sermons/?show&file_name=2018-03-18-am.mp3 Download
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Psalm 88 (Listen)

A Song. A Psalm of the Sons of Korah. To the choirmaster: according to Mahalath Leannoth. A Maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.

88:1   O LORD, God of my salvation,
    I cry out day and night before you.
2   Let my prayer come before you;
    incline your ear to my cry!
3   For my soul is full of troubles,
    and my life draws near to Sheol.
4   I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am a man who has no strength,
5   like one set loose among the dead,
    like the slain that lie in the grave,
  like those whom you remember no more,
    for they are cut off from your hand.
6   You have put me in the depths of the pit,
    in the regions dark and deep.
7   Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
    and you overwhelm me with all your waves. Selah
8   You have caused my companions to shun me;
    you have made me a horror to them.
  I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
9     my eye grows dim through sorrow.
  Every day I call upon you, O LORD;
    I spread out my hands to you.
10   Do you work wonders for the dead?
    Do the departed rise up to praise you? Selah
11   Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
    or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
12   Are your wonders known in the darkness,
    or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?
13   But I, O LORD, cry to you;
    in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14   O LORD, why do you cast my soul away?
    Why do you hide your face from me?
15   Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
    I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.
16   Your wrath has swept over me;
    your dreadful assaults destroy me.
17   They surround me like a flood all day long;
    they close in on me together.
18   You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
    my companions have become darkness.

(ESV)

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Tamar Pollard’s story

“Suddenly a masked man smashed through the driver’s window with an iron bar and began beating Dad to death. There was nothing Dad could do — he was trapped in his own seat, receiving blow after blow. And it was there he died, suffocating on his own blood.”

Thirteen years ago the question of forgiveness became a very real one for me. Every summer my whole family (me, Mum, Dad and younger brother and sister), packed into a caravanette full of aid: food, clothes, medicine and Bibles and journeyed off to Eastern Europe, for six weeks. This particular year, when Mum and Dad approached the Romanian border, the lights failed on the vehicle. They stopped in a lay-by to wait for daylight, but were soon disturbed by a loud bangs. Dad clambered into the cab and put the key into the ignition. Suddenly a masked man smashed through the driver’s window with an iron bar and began beating Dad to death. There was nothing Dad could do — he was trapped in his own seat, receiving blow after blow. And it was there he died, suffocating on his own blood. Questions began to flood my mind. Questions like: “Do I really believe God exists and is in control?”, “Do I really believe God is good and his plans are perfect?”, “Do I really believe God sent his son, Jesus into the world?”, “Do I believe Jesus died in my place, to take the punishment I deserve?”. And as I answered yes to each and every one of them, I was then left with the question, “Well, how am I going to respond?”
Read more of Tamar Pollard’s story
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