If you’ve ever felt like you should know how to study the Bible but just weren’t sure where to begin, you’re in the right place. In this space, I share practical, Spirit-led teachings and tips to help you study with confidence, apply truth in real life, and reconnect with the heart of God through Scripture.
Psalm 88 ends in darkness. God left it that way on purpose.
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Reader, Seven weeks. The finish line is close enough to see from here. Before we open this week's Psalms, I want to name something quietly. The summer that felt long in June is starting to feel finite. August is closer than it seemed. And there's something about the last stretch of anything that invites a particular kind of attention — a slowing down, a noticing, a willingness to let what has been growing in you actually land before the season closes. Last week, we sat with the sons of Korah in Psalm 84 — men who carried a redeemed family history and still found their way to one of the most beautiful expressions of longing for God's presence in all of Scripture. The seed we planted: restoration is not just relief from hardship. It is restored nearness. And nearness is what this journey has been building toward all along. This week, that thread moves into the most sobering territory we've visited yet. We're in Psalms 86–90. And I need to prepare you for Psalm 88 before you get there. Heman wrote it. And unlike every other lament in the Psalms — which eventually turn, which eventually find their footing — Psalm 88 does not turn. It ends here: "Darkness is my closest friend." — Psalm 88:18 Last line. No resolution. No "but God." Just darkness. God chose to preserve that psalm exactly as it is. He included it in His Word — unresolved, sitting in the dark without a tidy ending — because sometimes that is exactly where we are. And He is not uncomfortable with our unresolved grief. He makes room for it. Psalm 89 follows immediately, opening with this: "I will sing of the steadfast love of the Lord, forever." — Psalm 89:1 Placed side by side on purpose. Unresolved grief. Unshakeable covenant love. Both true at the same time. Neither canceling the other out. That is the seed for this week. Lament does not cancel trust. It deepens it. Faith that can hold sorrow and sovereignty together is faith anchored in something circumstances cannot move. Watch this week's first teaching video before you open Psalm 86. Read, watch, listen, write. Take your time with Psalm 89 — it spans two days for a reason. Let the weekend be your time to linger in the harder passages and let God meet you there. Don't Miss This Week's Training!Add it to your favorite calendar tool
P.S. Two weeks left. If you've been doing this journey without the journal, it's still available at wordandseed.com/summer. Don't finish without the guided space to write through the final stretch. |
You don’t have to be a Bible scholar to read the Bible—just a student of the Word.!
If you’ve ever felt like you should know how to study the Bible but just weren’t sure where to begin, you’re in the right place. In this space, I share practical, Spirit-led teachings and tips to help you study with confidence, apply truth in real life, and reconnect with the heart of God through Scripture.
Reader, Mid-July. The summer is at its fullest — long evenings, slower pace, the kind of heat that makes you move differently through your day. And six weeks into this journey, I want to ask you something honest before we open this week's Psalms. Not rhetorical — real. How are you doing with the rhythm? Are you still showing up? Still writing? Still watching? Because this is the week the drift becomes a choice. Not a failure — a choice. Either the rhythm that has been building since June 1...
Reader, July has a different feel than June. The summer is no longer new. The rhythm you started building on June 1 has either taken root or quietly loosened, and most of us know which one is true without having to think too hard about it. Either way, this Monday morning is an invitation back to the Word. No guilt about what was missed. Just an open journal and one more Psalm. Before we jump into this week's readings, can I ask you something? How is Summer in the Psalms going for you? Some of...
Reader, The middle of a journey has its own particular weight. The beginning had momentum. The end has a finish line in sight. But the middle — week four, day twenty-two — is where you find out what you're actually made of. If you're here, reading this, still in it — that matters more than you know. Last week, we followed David from the wilderness of Judah into worship, watching remembrance become the bridge between longing and praise. The seed we planted: when you cannot feel God's nearness,...