Changed in the Waiting
I Wait for the Lord
December 2, 2024
SCRIPTURE
PSALM 130
I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the LORD
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
—PSALM 130:5-8
PSALM 130
I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the LORD
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
—PSALM 130:5-8
Because you can’t really hope for something you already have, hope and waiting go hand in hand. Acknowledging that waiting is hard gives us permission to say that hope is often hard too.
I have a friend whose last five years have been spent walking with her teenage son through a debilitating chronic illness, while also caring for three other children, two of whom have separate disability diagnoses, and most recently her mom, who has brain cancer. She knows something about being up all night with the watchmen, longing for change to come with the sunrise. She is my resident expert in hope.
Her definition of hope is made up of three equal parts: one-third is acknowledging that things are not how you wish they were; one-third is deciding not to resign yourself to how things are now; and one-third is recognizing you’re not actually in charge of the outcome. As I have been privileged to witness her journey, I have seen that hope is a struggle. More than an emotion, it is a commitment to live in the tension of waiting while caring deeply about the outcome. It takes effort to stay engaged rather than check out, give up, or distract yourself from your painful reality while you wait for it to change.
While our English word does little to help us grasp these complexities of hope, the Hebrew words qavah and yahal provide better insight. These words found throughout the psalms are at times translated as “hope” and other times as “wait.” In Psalm 130, qavah is used twice and is translated above as “wait.” Yahal is also used twice and is translated as “hope.” In yesterday's scripture, though, some versions translate yahal as “hope” while others use “wait.” This seeming fluidity is because the concept of hoping and waiting are two sides of the same coin in Hebrew thought.
Qavah is a verb meaning “to wait,” and it is used to form the noun tiqvah, which means “hope.” Qavah is also connected with concepts of tension, twisting, stretching, endurance, and strength. There is relationship implied here—the word itself bears witness to ancient wisdom. Waiting in uncertainty creates a tension that stretches the one who is willing to hold on, and that can produce an ever-strengthening endurance.
Yahal also carries the meaning of waiting and expectation. In both instances, waiting leads to hope only in reference to the one for whom we wait, Without the knowledge that the one on whom we wait can be trusted, the waiting is not hopeful at all. Waiting on God allows us to hope. But trust and hope do not displace the painful tension of waiting.
We are given evidence throughout Scripture that hope can coexist with anger, pain, and disappointment. The prophets and psalmists certainly did not pretend to be happy about the waiting they were doing. Their words of anguish and hope twisted together can give us the courage to voice our own. Jesus himself used the psalms to voice his lament!
Many of us have believed there is no room for sadness if we trust in God, but this is not the message of Scripture. Because waiting is so hard, and because our God can be trusted, we can voice our lament and our hope all in one breath.
I have a friend whose last five years have been spent walking with her teenage son through a debilitating chronic illness, while also caring for three other children, two of whom have separate disability diagnoses, and most recently her mom, who has brain cancer. She knows something about being up all night with the watchmen, longing for change to come with the sunrise. She is my resident expert in hope.
Her definition of hope is made up of three equal parts: one-third is acknowledging that things are not how you wish they were; one-third is deciding not to resign yourself to how things are now; and one-third is recognizing you’re not actually in charge of the outcome. As I have been privileged to witness her journey, I have seen that hope is a struggle. More than an emotion, it is a commitment to live in the tension of waiting while caring deeply about the outcome. It takes effort to stay engaged rather than check out, give up, or distract yourself from your painful reality while you wait for it to change.
While our English word does little to help us grasp these complexities of hope, the Hebrew words qavah and yahal provide better insight. These words found throughout the psalms are at times translated as “hope” and other times as “wait.” In Psalm 130, qavah is used twice and is translated above as “wait.” Yahal is also used twice and is translated as “hope.” In yesterday's scripture, though, some versions translate yahal as “hope” while others use “wait.” This seeming fluidity is because the concept of hoping and waiting are two sides of the same coin in Hebrew thought.
Qavah is a verb meaning “to wait,” and it is used to form the noun tiqvah, which means “hope.” Qavah is also connected with concepts of tension, twisting, stretching, endurance, and strength. There is relationship implied here—the word itself bears witness to ancient wisdom. Waiting in uncertainty creates a tension that stretches the one who is willing to hold on, and that can produce an ever-strengthening endurance.
Yahal also carries the meaning of waiting and expectation. In both instances, waiting leads to hope only in reference to the one for whom we wait, Without the knowledge that the one on whom we wait can be trusted, the waiting is not hopeful at all. Waiting on God allows us to hope. But trust and hope do not displace the painful tension of waiting.
We are given evidence throughout Scripture that hope can coexist with anger, pain, and disappointment. The prophets and psalmists certainly did not pretend to be happy about the waiting they were doing. Their words of anguish and hope twisted together can give us the courage to voice our own. Jesus himself used the psalms to voice his lament!
Many of us have believed there is no room for sadness if we trust in God, but this is not the message of Scripture. Because waiting is so hard, and because our God can be trusted, we can voice our lament and our hope all in one breath.
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION, DISCUSSION, AND PRAYER
How have you experienced the struggle of waiting and hope?
As you think about your community, your nation, and our world, where do you see that struggle now?
What other scriptures, songs, or poems might Provide appropriate language for lament and hope in waiting?
How have you experienced the struggle of waiting and hope?
As you think about your community, your nation, and our world, where do you see that struggle now?
What other scriptures, songs, or poems might Provide appropriate language for lament and hope in waiting?