The world often makes us feel hopeless. With the coronavirus, it may feel like there is nothing but despair. But God gives us a different message in the midst of despair: hope. For a moment, let’s consider a psalm and a story to see how God moves people from despair to hope.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord! O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy! If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared. I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption. And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities. (Ps. 130)

The psalmist expresses deep despair. He is deeply troubled and cries out in desperation to God. He wants assurance and relief from his anguish. So he petitions God for peace and to know that he has been heard. He fears that he has sinned and offended God. He feels alienated from God and cries out. He realizes he has no hope at all apart from God’s mercy. When we recognize our sinfulness before God we are driven to our knees like the psalmist, but we are also aware of his grace. And so, we ask for mercy and wait. We wait for God to rescue us. We long to feel his presence, take his hand of mercy, and be restored.

All of this reminds me of a childhood memory.

When I was a little boy, I sometimes got to visit my dad’s job sites. My dad was a builder all of his life, and I loved to see the new homes he was working on. There were certain things on the job site that brought wonder and excitement to a five-year-old boy. I loved the smell of wood, seeing the inside of a house before any Sheetrock or siding was put on, playing in the sawdust, and stacking up the scrap wood lying around. But most of all I loved running across the newly decked floor before any walls were raised.

I loved running as fast as I could across the floor. There were no walls to stop me, no hills to run up or down, no turns, no loose gravel, and no tall weeds. It was just me and open floor, and I loved it! Yet with all the joy that I remember, there is one serious instance that I will never forget.

My dad was building a home and the property was on an incline that made the foundation high on the back end of the house and low on the front end. During a visit to the job site, I saw from the car window that the floor had been laid. Chill bumps went up my spine as I imagined myself running across that new open floor. I could hardly wait!

As the car slowed to a stop, I got out, ran up the temporary stairs, and shot across the floor. I went so fast that my dad didn’t have time to tell me that he had not finished nailing the floor down towards the back of the house. I faintly remember my dad yelling to warn me of the danger: “Don’t go too far, son. Don’t go too far!” But as a five-year-old boy there was no way that I was going to spoil my fun and heed his warning.

I reached the back part of the house and suddenly noticed that the floor that I had been running on was no longer beneath me. I vividly remember the fear as I fell. It happened in an instant, but it seemed like forever!

As I sat on the ground below crying, I looked around and found nothing but a darkness surrounding me. My imagination flared and I’m sure I heard monsters. It was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me at that point in my life. I sat in darkness and despair and cried out, “Daddy!”

I looked up at the only light present. It was faint, but to me it was the brightest light in the world. It was shining through the scattered plywood above me. I heard the footsteps of my dad running across the floor followed by his voice, “I’m coming, son. I’m coming!” As I looked into the light, I saw a hand emerge through it. It was a strong and loving hand. It was the hand that would save me from the darkness. I sat waiting … waiting for that hand to reach me.

My dad reached down, took hold of my hand, and pulled me out of the darkness into the light. He held his crying, scared little boy in his arms and said, “It’s okay, my boy. Daddy’s here! I’m here, son! Everything will be all right now!” What comfort came with those words and the warmth of my dad’s loving arms.

We all have a Dad like that. As spiritual children, we dart off across the open floor of life, and our heavenly Dad yells out, “Don’t go too far!” But in our self-reliance, we do not heed the warning from our loving Father, and the ground comes out from beneath us. And as we sit in the pit of darkness with the monsters all around, our Dad is right above us in the light.

We cry out of the darkness, “Daddy!” We then hear our heavenly Dad respond, “I’m coming!” And from the light our Dad has his one and only son reach down and pull us out of the darkness and despair. The light warms our bodies, and our Father warms our souls as he says, “It’s okay, my child. I’m here! Everything will be all right now.” There’s no greater feeling than the loving arms of the Father wrapped around your battered and weary soul. In that moment, we move from despair to hope!