Honest With God: Finding Healing and Wholeness Through the PsalmsНамуна

The reality of working multiple jobs after graduate school – including making frappuccinos at a coffee shop while being trained by someone far younger than me– felt like a daily dose of humiliation. Here I was, seminary-educated and ordained as a pastor, yet circumstances had forced me into survival mode, working any job I could find during the Great Recession.

My pride and arrogance took a necessary beating every day. I'd expected ministry to look different than this. I'd imagined stepping directly from graduation into meaningful pastoral work, not scrambling to pay bills while my dreams gathered dust. The voice of condemnation was relentless: "What kind of pastor can't even support himself? Maybe you heard God wrong. What if you never get another opportunity?"

But during that humbling season, I discovered something revolutionary about God's character: He doesn't operate on the principle of keeping score. The same God who had called me to ministry was present in the coffee shop, teaching me lessons about humility, gratitude, and dependence that the classroom never could. God dealt with my pride, as I cried out in prayer.

One reason I wanted to share this plan with you is to show you, day after day, just how honest and raw the Psalms are. They give us all permission to bring our honesty before God, so that He may bring healing and wholeness into our lives.

In Psalm 130, David cries from a place of desperation: "Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice." (Psalm 130:1-2 NIV) But then David makes a stunning declaration: "If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, so that we may be served with reverence." (Psalm 130:3-4 NIV)

If God kept a detailed ledger of every failure, every poor choice, every moment of weakness, none of us could stand. The accounting would crush us all. But the stunning truth David declares is that God doesn't keep such records. With Him, there is forgiveness.

Forgiveness doesn’t arrive after we've proven ourselves worth, nor once we've cleaned up our mess. Present-tense forgiveness – "there is forgiveness" – is available right now, even if you are mopping bathrooms alone at midnight and feeling like a vocational failure.

The voice of shame shouts accusations and keeps detailed records, while the voice of God whispers forgiveness and tears up the scorecards.

So, which voice are you paying most attention to today?

I hope you'll return tomorrow, because I have good news to share with you about what God wants to restore in your life.