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Out of the darkness (Psalm 77:1-20)

Nigel Clifford, June 2, 2021
Part of the Miscellaneous series, preached at a Midweek Meeting service

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https://www.bethel-clydach.co.uk/sermons/?show&file_name=2021-06-02-pm.mp3 Download




Earlier: Same day: Later:
« Four wrong views of living the Christian life None Jesus and storms »

Psalm 77 (Listen)

To the choirmaster: according to Jeduthun. A Psalm of Asaph.

77:1   I cry aloud to God,
    aloud to God, and he will hear me.
2   In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
    in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
    my soul refuses to be comforted.
3   When I remember God, I moan;
    when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah
4   You hold my eyelids open;
    I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
5   I consider the days of old,
    the years long ago.
6   I said, “Let me remember my song in the night;
    let me meditate in my heart.”
    Then my spirit made a diligent search:
7   “Will the Lord spurn forever,
    and never again be favorable?
8   Has his steadfast love forever ceased?
    Are his promises at an end for all time?
9   Has God forgotten to be gracious?
    Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah
10   Then I said, “I will appeal to this,
    to the years of the right hand of the Most High.”
11   I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
    yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
12   I will ponder all your work,
    and meditate on your mighty deeds.
13   Your way, O God, is holy.
    What god is great like our God?
14   You are the God who works wonders;
    you have made known your might among the peoples.
15   You with your arm redeemed your people,
    the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah
16   When the waters saw you, O God,
    when the waters saw you, they were afraid;
    indeed, the deep trembled.
17   The clouds poured out water;
    the skies gave forth thunder;
    your arrows flashed on every side.
18   The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
    your lightnings lighted up the world;
    the earth trembled and shook.
19   Your way was through the sea,
    your path through the great waters;
    yet your footprints were unseen.
20   You led your people like a flock
    by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

(ESV)

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Food for Thought
Isn’t Clydach a great place to live? It’s good isn’t it to meet with friends and have opportunities for strengthening our ties with each other? Bethel wants to help us do just this. Food for Thought is an hour long monthly lunch where we share a meal together, and listen to a short talk allowing…
More about Food for Thought…
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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