When waiting is writhing

It seems like a call to “just relax.”

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.

The words sound so soothing, so peaceful. Immediately, they’re followed by this further advice:

Do not fret.

And so Psalm 37:7 may seem to speak of those times when we face a minor problem or setback, one that annoys or irritates us. It may seem to advise something gentle and easy to do.

Instead, this verse offers stunning counsel that we may miss, because our English versions do not convey the wallop of the three Hebrew verbs:¹

We read, “be still.” But damam does not call for restful stillness.
We read, “wait patiently.” But chuwl does not call for quiet waiting.
We read, “don’t fret.” But charah isn’t about feeling annoyed.

Psalm 37:7 addresses those times when we’re overwhelmed with anger, distress, grief. While other verses call us to rest in God, this one affirms and encourages struggle.

Groan in silence

For starters, damam calls for active resistance, rather than rest. It means:

Be still – stop all forward progress, stay put;
Be silent – cease communication, hush;
when everything in you cries to do otherwise.

Here are some examples of the unnatural silence/stillness that damam invokes.

1 The people of the Exodus had just crossed the Red Sea on dry ground. To reach Canaan, they needed to pass through nations set on stopping them. So what would cause those nations to do the opposite?

By the power of your arm they will be as still as a stone – until your people pass by, Lord, until the people you bought pass by. (Ex. 15:16)

2 Joshua fought to deliver a city under attack, a city he had sworn to protect. At Joshua’s cry, heavenly bodies created by God defied natural laws he had set.

On the day the Lord gave the Amorites over to Israel, Joshua said to the Lord in the presence of Israel: “Sun, stand still over Gibeon, and you, moon, over the Valley of Aijalon.” So the sun stood still and the moon stopped, till the nation avenged itself on its enemies. The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. (Josh 10:12-13, 14)

3 At Mount Sinai, Moses and the Israelites followed God’s instructions to ordain Aaron and his sons as priests. But then, two of Aaron’s sons “offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, contrary to his command.”

So fire came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord. Moses then said to Aaron, “This is what the Lord spoke of when he said: ‘Among those who approach me I will be proved holy; in the sight of all the people I will be honored.’”

Aaron remained silent. (Lev. 10:1-3)

4 Centuries later, God told Ezekiel something no one wants to hear:

Son of man, realize that I am about to take the delight of your eyes away from you with a jolt, but you must not mourn [publicly] or weep or shed tears. Groan in silence for the dead, but do not perform mourning rites.

So I spoke to the people in the morning, and my wife died in the evening. In the morning I acted just as I was commanded. (Ezek. 24:15-17, 18 NET)

Reading these passages, you may feel angry with God in behalf of Aaron and his sons, Ezekiel and his wife. Aaron and Ezekiel may have felt far greater anger. Each may have grappled with the Lord, as did Job, as have millions of other God-followers down through time.

Our Lord does not silence that.

When we face wrenching loss that feels profoundly unjust, God does not frown on our being honest with him about emotions he gave us, emotions he already knows we feel. He does not call us to stuff or deny our questions, anger, grief.

Rather, when God counsels us to “groan in silence,” he urges us to choose how, where, when and to whom we express all that. He knows when venting in front of everyone is not wise or safe or good.

Notice the timeline Ezekiel gave when he wrote about his wife’s death: “My wife died in the evening. In the morning I acted just as I was commanded.”

When morning came, and brought other mourners and comforters, Ezekiel did not wail or otherwise demonstrate his grief in front of them.

But his wife died in the evening. So what did he do all night? I believe he spent that night (and many others afterward) grieving openly, in private with his God. And as Ezekiel groaned where no one else could hear, God showed him the purpose for this particular act of damam.²

For Ezekiel and Aaron, being still required profound self-denial at times of profound grief.

Don’t burn

David sang of a pain no less wrenching when he said:

Do not fret because of those who are evil. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret – it leads only to evil.” (Psalm 37:1, 7-8)

“Do not fret” may seem to advise: “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” But the Hebrew verb charah doesn’t mean “to chafe.” It means, “to be kindled with anger, to burn with anger.” In this case, anger mounts as callous people cause great harm and get away with it. Anger burns wherever evil seems invincible and justice, impossible.

Verse 8 may appear to advise: “Refuse to feel anger ever.” Indeed, the NIV begins, “Refrain from anger,” but that’s an unfortunate translation of yet another Hebrew verb. Here’s a better rendering: “Let go of anger and leave rage behind” (GW).

God does not forbid anger. In fact, he himself feels and expresses great anger over evil. The New Testament guides us this way:

Be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. (James1:19-20)

Be angry without sinning. Don’t let the sun set on your anger. Don’t provide an opportunity for the devil. (Eph. 4:26-27 CEB)

The repeated cry in Psalm 37 translated, “Don’t fret,” also warns us not to let anger flare rashly or burn untended.

In civil engineering, to fret means “to wear away, erode.” In chemistry, to fret means “to eat away, corrode.” Similarly, the burning anger of charah can destroy us from within. And what destroys us can also burn anyone who gets close to us.

For harbored anger smolders as resentment. It erupts as rage. And resentment and rage can lead us into the very evil-doing that we hate.

So what does God tell us to do instead?

Be still? Wait patiently?

Yes. And no. Let’s look further at the tension of the “stillness,” the travail of the “waiting,” that the verbs in Psalm 37:7 express.

Bite the bullet

“Be still before the Lord.” Here, damam urges, “Respond to evil and injustice the same way Ezekiel and Aaron responded to stunning loss.” It might look like this:

Your emotions ricocheting every which way, you feel powerless to do anything, and desperate to do something – to fix what’s wrong, to pretend it isn’t happening, to expose and confront the evil, to deny, scapegoat, escape.

Yet Christ within you stands in your path, finger to his lips. Oh, you can go around him. You can do and say what you feel that you must. But the result will not be justice, or life.

Somehow, you say yes to the Spirit, in spite of your soul’s loud no. As you yield to your Lord everything in you that screams to take matters into your own hands, grace flows, and you are able to refocus all that energy on standing still. In that place. With him.

This type being still is not calm repose. It’s biting the bullet. It’s not denying reality; it’s denying yourself. It’s a fast of God’s choosing, a stillness fast. Life goes on, and you keep doing what needs to be done. But in those areas where you most long to see breakthrough and you feel most stuck, you choose to “stand fast,” until the fast is done.

This type being silent is not brooding. It’s waiting to speak and act until God gives the wisdom, the go-ahead, the strength. Meanwhile, it’s speaking and being heard in the secret place. It’s listening for, and hearing, the one who speaks to you there.

Writhe in labor

“Wait patiently for him.” Such an interesting translation. For chuwl doesn’t invite quiet acceptance. It calls forth violent motion:

Writhe in labor, twist, tremble, whirl about, dance, travail.

When Queen Esther learned her beloved cousin Mordecai lay at the king’s gate, mourning inconsolably, she “writhed in great anguish” (Est. 4:4 NAS). She didn’t yet know that her husband-king had decreed the slaughter of her people. But Mordecai’s behavior told her: Something was very, very wrong.

When Jeremiah saw the people of God resolutely betraying God, he cried out: “Oh, my anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain. Oh, the agony of my heart! My heart pounds within me, I cannot keep silent” (Jer. 4:19).

When Micah foresaw the new life that would come to God’s chastened people as a result of God’s faithfulness and their repentance, he urged, “Writhe in agony, Daughter Zion, like a woman in labor” (Micah 4:10).

It may seem odd to pair a command to “be still and silent” with a command to “writhe in pain.” And yet, pregnancy always precedes labor: nine months of a damam-type stillness, an already-but-not-yet straining toward, yet waiting for.

Even in labor, the stillness and the travail alternate, as the birth pangs come and go.

As a pregnant woman about to give birth writhes and cries out in her pain, so were we in your presence, Lord. (Isa. 26:17)

Remember this

“So were we.” I’ve been there. Very recently. Maybe you have too.

Maybe you’ve followed God you knew not where, only to be battered by evil and loss. You’ve said no to real needs, yes to real struggle. And now you’re hurting and spent, with no end in sight.

Remember this, dear one:

Both fasting and birthing have purpose.
And though they may seem to last forever,
they do not.

When waiting is writhing, when being still requires profoundly denying yourself, hear the word of the Lord:

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? … Then [when you have fasted to this end] your light will break forth like the dawn.” (Isa.58:6, 8)

“A woman does not give birth before she feels the pain … In the same way I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born,” says the Lord. (Isa.66:7, 9 NCV)

One verse in Psalm 37 calls us to “be still” and “wait patiently.” Most of the other 39 verses describe what will happen afterward, in just “a little while”:³

The ease, plenty and lack of consequences for those defying God will end.
The pain of pressing in to God in a very hard place will end too.

The stillness and writhing
that God has called forth
will result in deliverance and life.

Remember when nations that normally would have risen up to fight remained as still as a stone – and the people who had just left slavery in Egypt passed through, unharmed.

Remember when the sun stopped in the sky – and Joshua and his army delivered a city under attack.

Remember when Esther chose to press into the pain, rather than try to escape it – and her people were delivered from genocide.

Remember when Jesus hung on a cross, writhing in anguish over all evil of all time. Remember when his body lay in a borrowed tomb – and he who had refused to come down from the cross refused to stay in the grave!

Those hours, those days when evil seemed most powerful, and Jesus, most impotent, the Son was working with his Father to give us life, set us free.

Those times when we feel most defeated by evil and injustice, we taste our Lord’s pain. And he himself gives us grace to press in through it, so we may also share in the life it births.

Listen as God sings

When Jesus rose, his disciples did not see all evil vanish, all sorrow cease. No.

They. Saw. Him.

His overcoming love enveloped them. His overcoming life lifted them up. And deep within, they knew: He is the guarantee that every promise of God is true.

Filled with the Spirit, Jesus’ disciples set out to do the next thing, and the next, to cooperate with their Lord, to overcome evil with good.

But do not overlook those dark hours when they thought Jesus’ mission was aborted; his promises, thwarted; and he himself, gone. For what must have felt like an eternity, but lasted only three days, the faithful stopped in their tracks. They writhed in pain. They shared in their Lord’s suffering, without a clue what it was accomplishing.

Sometimes, the very best thing you too can do is to halt and travail in a similar way. While evil laughs, you stop – and question God, weep before him, rant, or sit bewildered without words. There in the darkness, ever so faintly at first, you hear him say:

I have loved you with a love that lasts forever. And so with unfailing love, I have drawn you to myself. Again, I will build you up, and you will be rebuilt. Again, you will play your tambourines and dance with joy. (Jer.31:3-4 CEB)

Even in that place of travail – especially in that place of travail – you and your Lord are one. Spirit-to-spirit, he sings over you. Sometimes, he sings Psalm 37.

Listen as he teaches you ever more deeply to trust in him, to commit the way forward to him, to find your delight in him.

Listen as he reminds you to “dwell in the land” and “do good,” even as he prepares you for the moment you will know what to do next.

Listen as he affirms promise after promise, that may now seem rubbish. Lay down your preconceived ideas of when each fulfillment will happen and how it will look. Know that you live in him in time and eternity. Watch for him to prove every promise true.

In a little while, dear one, your writhing will turn to dancing. Your distress will turn to rest.

For in him, you are bringing to birth what you cannot see now, but will absolutely love.

Footnotes

The verbs are: OT:1826 damam; OT:2342 chuwl or chiyl; and OT:2734 charah. I researched the definitions of these words and the Scriptures in which each appears throughout the Old Testament, using PC Study Bible by BibleSoft, as well as Biblehub.com. Helpful resources include: Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon, Unabridged, and Biblesoft’s New Exhaustive Strong’s Numbers and Concordance with Expanded Greek-Hebrew Dictionary. ↩︎
See Ezekiel 24:18-24. ↩︎
See the whole psalm. Please. Quoted phrases are from Psalm 37:7, 10. ↩︎

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