Archive for September 2025
Devotional on Psalm 27: Waiting Through the Wounds
“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?
When the wicked advance against me to devour me,
It is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall.” – Psalm 27:1–2
Psalm 27 is a psalm of courage and honesty. David declares that God is his light, salvation, and stronghold. Yet in the same breath, he acknowledges the presence of the “wicked” — those who oppose, threaten, or wound him.
When we hear “wicked,” we might imagine powerful enemies or obvious evil. But sometimes, the wounds come from closer to home. The “wicked” can be a co-worker who undermines you, a church member who whispers about you, or even a family member whose words cut deeper than any stranger’s. They may not be evil in how we often think, but their actions are unjust. They hurt. They confuse. They betray.
And in those moments, the cry of the heart is the same as David’s: “Lord, where is the justice? Where are You in this?”
I remember a season of my life when I had to wait eight long years for God to answer a desperate prayer. At first, I believed wholeheartedly that God would come through immediately. I thought He would arrive like a knight in shining armor, sweep in, and rescue me. But as time played out, I had to face the reality that help was on the way — just not on my timetable.
During those years, I shed many tears. Anxiety sometimes overwhelmed me. Other times, I stood firm on God’s promises. And layered in with that waiting was pain from people around me. Not strangers — but those I thought would stand by me. Some ignored my struggles. Others judged me unfairly. Words spoken in gossip or criticism felt like arrows.
Psalm 27 gave me language for those moments. David reminds us that even when others fail us, even when those we love the most let us down, God remains our stronghold. He doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t fold the file and move on to the next case. He sees. He stays.
Looking back, I can now say with confidence: God did not leave me. He stayed with me through it all. And when the answer finally came, it wasn’t in the way I wanted — it was in the way I needed. It took eight years, but He proved Himself faithful.
Psalm 27 closes with this exhortation:
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”
Waiting is not passive. It is courage in action. It’s refusing to let bitterness take root when people hurt you. It’s choosing to believe that God sees the injustice, even if He hasn’t intervened yet. It’s leaning into His presence when the waiting grows long and lonely.
David never pretended life was easy, and neither should we. But like David, we can stand firm in this: God is our light when darkness surrounds us. He is our salvation when anxiety rises. He is our stronghold when betrayal stings. And He will never abandon us, no matter how long the wait.
The “wicked” may not always look like enemies on a battlefield — sometimes they are the faces we sit beside in pews or the voices around our dinner table. But no matter who wounds us, God remains our defender. His justice may not come on our timetable, but His presence is sure. He is with us in the tears, in the waiting, and in the eventual breakthrough.
Prayer
Lord, You are my light when people misunderstand me. You are my salvation when I feel helpless against the words and actions of others. You are my stronghold when I feel abandoned or betrayed. Help me to wait on You with courage. Teach me to trust that Your justice is certain, even when it feels delayed. Remind me of the times You have come through before, and given me strength to believe You will do it again. Amen.
God is just, but where is the justice
“For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.” – Isaiah 30:18
It is in the courtroom that this question comes to mind. As a foster mom, I frequent the halls of justice quite often as a silent member of the lives of those I care for 24/7. History. Tragedy. Heartache. Mistakes. Looking the other way. Neglect. Unaware. The topics are all the same with simple twists here and there, all coming back to the same common element: God is just — where is the justice?
I’ve held the hands of littles as we walk to the car. Their every step trusting mine. Their minds confused, scared, unsettled — as the judge folds the file and reaches for another. Lawyers who were just angry at one another, fighting to make this motion or dismissal, laughing moments later about some event they’d all attended or a golf game gone by. And I find myself asking: Lord, do You see this? Do You hear their cries?
But those questions don’t stop in the courthouse. I’ve asked them in hospital corridors, too.
A few years ago, my sister — vibrant, driven, full of purpose — was diagnosed with Glioblastoma, Grade 4. Only months before, she had been named to the Georgia State Board of Nursing, an honor she had longed for and worked so hard to obtain. She had just purchased her own home, bought a new car, and was nearly finished with her Master’s degree. Life was opening up for her in ways she had dreamed of. And then, in the reading of an MRI, it all ended.
And now, our nation mourns a young leader — Charlie Kirk. At just 31 years old, with a wife and two small children, his life was stolen by assassination. He was bold in his faith, fearless in his convictions, and yet vulnerable to the evil that lurks in the hearts of men. The images of his death shook millions. Once again, we find ourselves crying out: Where is the justice? How could this happen?
How do we reconcile these moments? The confusion of children abandoned by the very people meant to protect them. The loss of a sister whose dreams were cut short. The murder of a young husband and father whose voice was silenced too soon. How do we hold the truth that God is just alongside the harsh reality of a world that so often feels cruel and unjust?
The truth is — God’s justice is not always immediate, nor is it always visible. What feels delayed to us is never forgotten by Him. Justice, in His hands, is not only about punishment or reward but about restoration — of hearts, of lives, of creation itself.
Sometimes His justice shows up in quiet ways: the healing of a child’s trust, the mending of a broken heart, the courage of a widow standing strong, or the ripple effect of a life lived faithfully. And other times, it feels hidden — waiting for that day when every wrong will be made right before His throne.
Until then, we wait. We walk by faith. We live justly ourselves, even when the world does not. We cling to His promise that justice will come, even if not in the way or timing we long for.
So when the courtroom feels cold, or the MRI brings devastation, or violence steals a leader in his prime, we anchor ourselves in this: God sees. God knows. God is just. And one day, His justice will roll down like waters, and His righteousness like a mighty stream.
Closing Prayer:
Lord, when life feels unfair and injustice surrounds me, remind me that You are just. Help me trust in what I cannot yet see. Give me strength to walk faithfully and to bring glimpses of Your justice into this world until the day You make all things new. Amen.
notesbynora 