The Thick, Confusing Middle
March 25, 2024 | By Michaela Wang BK ‘25
image description: blurry shot of runners and their feet
If there’s anything I took away from Junior Varsity cross country besides chronically damaged toenails, it is the art of endurance. I built up the mental fortitude to withstand extreme calorie expenditure amidst even more challenging circumstances, like category three hurricanes and a stomach trying desperately to digest a Philly cheesesteak. I’ve made it my life goal to not become my high school cross country coach and moralize the sport of running. But in reflecting on my faith in this season of future planning and immense personal stretching, I have to say it: We are running the race of life.
For most of the race, you are in the uncomfortable in-betweenness: Why did I choose this? How come everyone else around me looks like they know what they are doing? Why do I always forget to drink enough water? Is it too late to go back to the starting line? But as you move along, you start to gather more hope in the end, and maybe even start to enjoy the process a little. And when you finally reach the finish line, all the discomfort becomes worth it, all the doubt quelled by a sense of ultimate purpose.
I’ve found that much of my faith journey exists in that thick, confusing middle. Surrounded by beautifully-crafted testimonies and self-actualizing introspection, it is easy to believe that we can—and should—exist in that post-race clarity where we get every detail of our lives. But one of the biggest lessons I had to grapple with as a new Christian is that Christ and confusion coexist. Christ runs the race of life alongside us, but He doesn’t necessarily give us an out. God puts us into positions of uncertainty to wring out what no longer serves us and to refine us into Christ-like people, but we do not have the power to understand struggle in media res. So what gets us through the middle of the race, when purpose is questioned and the destination is out of view?
Fortunately, Palm Sunday is situated in the middle of the arc of suffering and deliverance from it. The Liturgy of the Psalms and of the Word provides some pointers, teaching us to find God’s presence and healthily respond to deliverance.
In Psalm 31, “down bad” is an understatement to describe David’s condition. Filled with sorrow, he seems to have sinned such that even his friends reproach him. He captures rejection as viscerally as an Urban Outfitters graphic t-shirt: “I am forgotten like a dead man, out of my mind; I am as useless as a broken pot.” [1] Yet somehow, the passage reaches a sharp inflection point where David conveys his abundant hope in the Lord: “But as for me, I have trusted in you, O Lord. I have said, ‘You are my God. My times are in your hand.’” [2] The passage ends with unexpected optimism and lightness: “make your face to shine upon your servant, and in your loving-kindness save me.” [3] Overall, in spite of––or maybe because of––insurmountable grief, David surrenders his trust in the Lord. Even though––or maybe because––he faces such judgment, he holds onto the image of God’s beaming brightness and loving-kindness.
Similarly, in Isaiah 50, the speaker faces trial but repeats his faith in God as a helper: “I did not hide my face from insult and spitting. The Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced.” [4] Just as David expresses hope in spite of his suffering, Isaiah’s view of God as a helper strengthens amidst insult and spitting. I resonate with this characterization of God as a helper. He helps not just when we are delivered from our trials, but through our trials. God’s help is now. It is always in reach.
Even when we are delivered from affliction, there is a right way to respond. In Psalm 118, David models how to respond to God’s deliverance. A song for the Easter season, it captures the people’s joy and gratitude––the post-race relief and euphoria. Of note, David does not relish the deliverance in itself––as something he worked for––but rather something that God gracefully gifted to Him. He showers God with honor and exalts him: “I will give thanks to you, for you answered me and have become my salvation…This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” [5] Maybe one way we can more easily get through the wilderness is realizing that we can’t do anything in our power to get out of it. Nor does God “owe” us for putting us through discomfort. Deliverance is a gift from God because of what Jesus did for us. The only way to respond is to thank Him and continue to offer ourselves up as a vessel for His work.
Reading these passages remind me of how the Christian walk does not promise certainty and comfort. It’s not just green pastures, but thick wilderness and dark valleys. Until we reach Heaven, we will be wandering in the wilderness with Christ by our side. Let’s pray that we may trust in the Lord through the thick, confusing middle, and praise Him when He shows us glimpses of answers.
References:
[1] Psalm 31:12
[2] Psalm 31: 14–15
[3] Psalm 31:16
[4] Isaiah 50:7
[5] Psalm 118: 21–23