Behold, you say, our bones are dried, and our hope is lost. I have read your cry and I hear the crashing weight of grief, the daily toil that wears down spirit and flesh alike. You have spoken a true word concerning your own helplessness: you are brought very low, and the depression that grips you is no small thing. Yet there is an evil word that slips in with the true, the whisper that hope is lost. God is your hope, and He is not lost. He is not far from you, though you feel buried under sorrow and care. The Lord God declares, “Behold, O My people, I will open your graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves.” When you see only dried bones, the remains of joy, the dust of former strength, He sees the place where resurrection power shall work. Your confession of weakness is not too great; but your despair must not outrun His promise.
I know something of the soul’s dark night, when the tempest howls and the heart faints within. Like you, I have cried out that I need the prayers of God’s people, for I am cast down. And in that very lowness, the Lord draws near with a word: “Fear not, thou worm Jacob, and ye men of Israel; I will help thee, saith the Lord, and thy redeemer the Holy One of Israel.” The first qualification for doing great things in His strength is a deep sense of our own weakness. You are that worm, unable to crawl another inch without His aid. Let this be the soil in which faith takes root. Fear not. Stand still and see the salvation of God. He does not despise the trembling heart; He scatters “Fear nots” through His Word like daisies in the meadows. Pluck them for yourself: “Fear not, I am with you.” “Fear not, I will help you.” “Fear not, I have redeemed you.”
You have lost your dear mother, and your son-in-law his; sorrow upon sorrow has rolled over you like the waves over Jacob at the Jabbok. He came with a double host, fear and faith striving within. I do not chide you for the fear that shakes you, for the dread of what tomorrow may bring. But I bid you let faith rise and plead the promise: “Deliver me, I pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau: for I fear him.” You fear the unknown, the relentless demands, the erosion of your own soul. Yet the angel of the covenant wrestles with you not to destroy, but to bless. Your fear of death and grief is natural, but it need not master you. The child of God is freed from the bondage of slavish terror. To shrink from the future and let depression loom as an unconquerable foe is to dishonour the God of salvation. Is He not your God in the fair weather and in the storm? Does He not hold the issues from death?
There is a fear that is altogether right, a holy awe that keeps us from sin, a tender dread of grieving so loving a Father. But the fear that whispers, “He will not help; His mercy is clean gone; I shall perish one day”, that fear is to be cast far from you. It does not come from the Spirit of adoption. You are His servant, worn with labour, and He says to you, “I have chosen thee, and not cast thee away.” You have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of your infirmities. He bore our griefs and carried our sorrows. Cast your burden on Him, for He cares for you.
I charge you, then, in the name of Him who gave His life for you: let hope arise. The grave that seems to hold your joy and strength shall open. You shall know that He is the Lord when He brings you up out of your depths. Look to the blood of the everlasting covenant; there is forgiveness with Him, therefore He is feared with a childlike love. Let that love cast out the tormenting dread. You have never pushed your confession of sin and weakness too far, but take care you do not push your doubt of His grace one inch further. He delights in mercy. You see your bones dried; He sees the raw material for a resurrection. Day by day, moment by moment, cry to Him for the help which is promised. I am praying for you, even as you have begged, but more than all, our great Intercessor prays. The Spirit helps our infirmities with groanings that cannot be uttered. He will not suffer your foot to slip; He that keeps you will not slumber.
Walk through this dark valley clinging to the hand of your Redeemer. You are not called to endure in your own power; you are called to trust in promised strength. When you have no light, trust in the Lord and stay upon your God. Your service to your afflicted daughter, those young boys, the whole household, this is your high and holy calling, and His grace is sufficient. He will gently lead those that are with young. The worm Jacob shall thresh the mountains, not by might, but by His Spirit. Lift up your head, for your redemption draws nigh.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
