When Desperation is a Good Thing

Day 1

Day One

One Long, Desperate Plea

Devotional

How fast a week can change what we are desperate for. When Pastor Harry first drafted this sermon, Smith Mountain Lake was down eight feet, boat lifts stuck out of the water, crops thirsty for rain across the Valley. By the time he preached it, the rain had come, and come, and come, and most of us were desperate for it to stop. We were still desperate. Just for something different.

That same desperate motion runs through Psalm 119:33-40, the hey stanza (the fifth letter) of the longest chapter in the Bible, a hundred seventy-six verses built as an acrostic, eight verses for every letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Back in July, with our youth headed to the mountains, we sat together further along, in the nun section, with the verse about the lamp and the path. This morning we are earlier in the walk, earlier in the alphabet of somebody’s whole life with God.

Read the stanza slowly and notice how much of it is verbs aimed at God: teach me, give me, lead me, turn my heart, turn my eyes, confirm your word, turn away my disgrace, I long. Almost every line is in desperate motion. Nothing here sits still. Even the longing named outright in the last verse is its own kind of motion, a leaning of the whole body toward something it is missing and needs but does not yet have.

This week we will walk through the stanza’s requests one at a time. Before we do, sit with the whole of it. This is not eight separate items on a prayer list. It is one long, moving plea, and it is allowed to be honest about wherever your own desperation happens to be pointed today.

Scripture

“Teach me, Yahweh, the way of your statutes. I will keep them to the end. Give me understanding, and I will keep your law. Yes, I will obey it with my whole heart.”

Psalm 119:33-34, WEB

From the Sermon

“That’s not eight separate requests stacked one after another. It’s one, long, moving plea, the way water is now moving in our valley from the ridge to the river.”

For Reflection

What changes about how you read this stanza if you hear it as one long, moving plea rather than eight separate requests, a single desperate reaching rather than a checklist?
What are you desperate for this week, and has what you are desperate for changed even in the last few days?
Who do you know whose desperation has shifted recently, worried about one thing last week and something else entirely now? How might you pray with them through both?

Prayer

Lord, we come to you honestly desperate, even when we are not sure what for. Teach us to see our many requests as one long reaching toward you. Meet us in our motion, and lead us, one step at a time, toward your presence. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.

Day 2

Day Two

Teach Me the Way, Lead Me the Path

Devotional

The stanza opens with words for the road. Teach me, Lord, the way of your decrees. That word for way, derek, is the ordinary Hebrew word for a road, a course, the distance between where you are and where you are headed. Two verses later it narrows to nathiv, a path, the kind of trail you would walk on foot rather than the wide road you would travel by. And in between them sits binah, understanding, which in Hebrew is not a spectator’s word. It is not standing back and getting the concept. It is closer to the discernment you can only get by moving through something, the kind of understanding a farmer has about weather that a forecast cannot give you.

Notice what the psalmist is not asking for. He is not asking God to explain the destination. He is not asking for the whole map. He is asking to be taught the way, led on the path, given the kind of understanding you only get by walking with someone.

That is a request for companionship on the road, not a request for a photograph of where the road ends up. So many of our own prayers ask God for the ending: how will this decision turn out, will this diagnosis resolve, will this relationship heal. What is actually being offered, again and again, is a guide for today’s stretch of road.

Ask yourself where you have been begging God for the destination when what is offered, and what you actually need this week, is a teacher for the next mile.

Scripture

“Teach me, Yahweh, the way of your statutes. I will keep them to the end. … Direct me in the path of your commandments, for I delight in them.”

Psalm 119:33, 35, WEB

From the Sermon

“That’s a request for companionship on the road, not a request for a photograph of where the road ends up.”

For Reflection

Derek, the road, and nathiv, the narrower path: what is the difference between asking God for a road and asking God for a path, and why might the psalmist move from one word to the other?
Where are you asking God to explain the destination instead of asking to be taught the next step of the way?
Who could you walk beside this week, not by handing them the whole answer to what they are facing, but simply by staying present with them on the path?

Prayer

Teacher and Guide, we so often want the whole map. Teach us instead the way, lead us the path, and give us the kind of understanding that only comes from walking with you. We will take the next step, and trust you with the rest. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Day 3

Day Three

Turn My Heart, Turn My Eyes

Devotional

Then the stanza turns desperate. Turn my heart toward your statutes, and not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes from worthless things. The Hebrew verb, natah, means to bend, to physically redirect, the same word used elsewhere for pitching a tent beside someone.

This is not a request for better priorities, a New Year’s resolution kind of prayer. It is a request for nearness: to move close enough to camp beside God and stay there, the way we used to pitch our tents close together at church retreats, near enough to hear each other in the night.

And tucked inside it is grace. Turn my eyes from worthless things, and give me life. Quicken me. Be gracious to me. The turning is not only away from something. It is toward life itself.

What would it look like this week to ask, not for a better to-do list or more willpower, but simply to be turned, bent, redirected toward nearness with God?

Scripture

“Turn my heart toward your statutes, not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes away from looking at worthless things. Revive me in your ways.”

Psalm 119:36-37, WEB

From the Sermon

“This isn’t a request for better priorities. It’s a request for nearness: to move close enough to camp beside God and stay there.”

For Reflection

Natah, to turn, is the same word used for pitching a tent beside someone. How does that image change what it means to ask God to turn your heart?
What worthless thing has your gaze been fixed on lately, and what would it feel like to ask God to simply turn your eyes rather than white-knuckling your way to better habits?
Whose tent could you pitch yours beside this week: someone who needs the nearness of a person, not just the correction of a better plan?

Prayer

God who pitches your tent beside us, turn our hearts toward you and away from what does not last. Turn our eyes from what is worthless, and give us life in the turning. Draw us near enough to camp beside you, and let us stay. Amen.

Day 4

Day Four

Confirm It, Take the Shame Away

Devotional

More desperately still: confirm your promise to your servant. Confirm comes from the Hebrew verb for standing something up, for establishing it. And right beside it: turn away the disgrace I dread.

The psalmist names his own fear outright: being on display as someone who trusted a promise that did not hold. That is not weakness. It is the fear you only feel inside a real relationship, having trusted someone who might not come through.

You do not dread disgrace over a rule you memorized. You dread it over a relationship you have staked something real on. Anyone who has prayed for rain and watched clouds pass by understands this. Anyone who has prayed for a child, a job, a diagnosis, and waited, understands this too.

If you have ever felt embarrassed for having believed God for something, this verse says that fear belongs in prayer as well. Bring the fear of disgrace to God, rather than quietly protecting yourself from it by expecting less.

Scripture

“Fulfill your promise to your servant, that you may be feared. Take away my disgrace that I dread, for your ordinances are good.”

Psalm 119:38-39, WEB

From the Sermon

“You don’t dread disgrace over a rule you memorized. You dread it over a relationship you’ve staked something real on.”

For Reflection

Why might the fear of disgrace, the fear of having trusted a promise that does not hold, actually be evidence of a real relationship with God rather than a lack of faith?
What promise have you staked something real on, and where is the fear of disgrace keeping you from naming that hope out loud?
Who around you is carrying a quiet fear of having believed for something and come up empty? How might you sit with them in that, rather than rushing to fix it?

Prayer

Faithful God, we confess the promises we have staked our hearts on, and the fear of disgrace we carry when the waiting is long. Confirm your word to us. Take our shame away. We trust you not because we have proof, but because we have staked something real on you. Amen.

Day 5

Day Five

Desperate for God Himself

Devotional

The stanza’s last line summarizes the whole desperate plea. Behold, I long for your precepts. Ta’avah is the same root used for hunger, for craving, the kind of longing that keeps you up at night.

Notice, too: not one of these eight verses actually asks God for information. Teach me. Lead me. Turn me. Give me life. Those are the requests of someone who wants a person near her across an ordinary day, not a manual.

Recall Moses at the bush that would not burn up. The story turned on one small detail: Moses noticed. He was curious. He said, I will turn aside and see this great sight. He could have walked past it, half noticed and forgotten. His curiosity put him in the one place where God was ready to say his name out loud. How curious are we? Somewhere along the way, a lot of us traded curiosity about God for information about God.

This week the rain came, and just as fast, most of us went looking for the next desperate prayer before we had even said thank you for the last one. So carry this out of the week: not the desperation that only knows how to ask for the next outcome, but the desperation that keeps turning back toward God himself, one more time, whatever the weather happens to be doing, because it still believes God is there to be turned toward.

Scripture

“Behold, I long for your precepts! Revive me in your righteousness.”

Psalm 119:40, WEB

From the Sermon

“The psalmist never asks God to fix a circumstance. He is desperate for God, not merely for what God can arrange.”

For Reflection

What is the difference between being desperate for what God can do and being desperate for God himself, and why does the psalmist land on the second?
When was the last time you turned aside for God simply because you wanted to know him more fully, not because you needed something from him?
Whatever circumstance you or someone you love is desperate to see change this week, how could you help each other keep turning toward God himself, and not only toward the outcome?

Prayer

God, we long for you, not only for what you can do for us. Meet every desperate prayer in this room, whatever we think we are asking for, with more of yourself. Not just the rain, and not just the dry ground. Yourself. Amen.

Study Guide

Pleasant Valley Church of the Brethren

When Desperation Is a Good Thing

Small Group Discussion Guide

Based on the sermon by Pastor Harry Jarrett · Psalm 119:33-40

Pleasant Valley Church of the Brethren, Weyers Cave, Virginia

Summary

This week we sat with Psalm 119:33-40, the hey stanza of the Bible’s longest chapter, in a week when our own desperation shifted overnight from praying for rain to praying for it to stop. Pastor Harry walked us through nearly every line of this stanza, almost all of it verbs aimed at God: teach me, give me, lead me, turn my heart, turn my eyes, confirm your word, turn away my disgrace, I long. Tracing the Hebrew behind these requests (derek and nathiv for road and path, natah for turning, ta’avah for longing) he showed a psalmist who was not asking God for a map or a manual, but for nearness: to be taught the way, to camp close enough to God to stay there, to have a promise confirmed and a fear of disgrace taken away. The sermon returned again and again to one question: what are we actually desperate for? Some circumstance we want changed, or, underneath it, God himself? Like the psalmist, we are invited to bring our whole, honest desperation to God, and to let it lead us not merely toward outcomes, but toward the God who is already walking the road beside us.

Opening Prayer

(Read aloud together, or led by one person.)

Gracious God, we come to you today with whatever desperation we are carrying, named or unnamed. Quiet our hearts long enough to notice what we are actually asking of you. Teach us the way, turn our hearts toward you, and meet us, in this conversation and in every ordinary desperate moment of our week, with more of yourself. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.

Ice Breaker

Think of something you have prayed for desperately, more than once. Looking back, was the prayer really about the outcome, or was some of it about wanting God nearer? Share as much as you’re comfortable with.

Key Verses

“Teach me, Yahweh, the way of your statutes. I will keep them to the end.”

Psalm 119:33, WEB

“Turn my heart toward your statutes, not toward selfish gain.”

Psalm 119:36, WEB

“Take away my disgrace that I dread, for your ordinances are good.”

Psalm 119:39, WEB

“Behold, I long for your precepts! Revive me in your righteousness.”

Psalm 119:40, WEB

“When Yahweh saw that he came over to see, God called to him out of the middle of the bush.”

Exodus 3:4, WEB

Group Discussion Questions

The psalmist’s plea in Psalm 119:33-40 is almost entirely verbs aimed at God: teach, give, lead, turn, confirm, long. What does the shape of these requests tell us about how the psalmist related to God, and how is that different from a prayer list?
Pastor Harry traced three Hebrew words for road in this stanza: derek (the ordinary road), nathiv (the narrower path), and binah (understanding gained only by walking, not by having a concept explained). What difference does it make to hear “teach me the way” as a request for companionship rather than a request for a map?
The Hebrew verb behind “turn my heart” and “turn my eyes,” natah, is the same word used elsewhere for pitching a tent beside someone. How does that image reshape what it means to ask God to turn your heart toward him?
The psalmist names his own fear outright: “take away the disgrace I dread.” Pastor Harry said we don’t dread disgrace over a rule we memorized, we dread it over a relationship we’ve staked something real on. What promise or hope have you staked something real on, and how comfortable are you naming the fear that comes with it?
Notice how fast the congregation’s own desperation shifted this week: desperate for rain last Sunday, desperate for it to stop this Sunday. Where has your own desperation shifted recently, and what stayed the same underneath it?
Pastor Harry said, “the psalmist never asks God to fix a circumstance. He is desperate for God, not merely for what God can arrange.” What is the difference between being desperate for an outcome and being desperate for God himself, and which one is more often true of your own prayers?
Last week’s sermon on Moses at the burning bush turned on one detail: Moses noticed, he was curious. Pastor Harry asked, “when was the last time you turned aside for God, not because you needed something, but simply because you wanted to know God more fully?” How could this group help each other rediscover that kind of curiosity?
Pastor Harry noted that “if you’re watching this later, on the video or in one of the shorts, that desperate wanting travels through a screen just as well. You’re not too far away to ask.” Who in your life is watching from a distance right now, and how could this group reach toward them this week?

Life Applications

Name what you’re desperate for. Take ten honest minutes this week to write down what you are actually desperate for right now: a circumstance you want changed, or, underneath it, God’s own nearness.

Check-in: Be ready to share one thing from your list, even if it surprises you.

Pitch your tent closer. Choose one worthless thing your eyes keep drifting to (a habit, a scroll, a worry) and each day this week pray simply, “turn my heart, turn my eyes,” instead of trying to white-knuckle a fix.

Check-in: Note whether the daily prayer changed anything by the time the group meets again, and share it.

Turn toward, not just outward. In one situation you’re praying for an outcome (rain, healing, a decision, a resolution), add a second prayer this week: not only “change this,” but “meet me here, whatever happens.”

Check-in: Come ready to say which prayer, the outcome prayer or the presence prayer, was harder to actually mean.

Reach toward someone watching from a distance. Think of someone who feels far off right now, from church, from faith, or from you, and send one message, card, or call this week simply to say they are not too far away.

Check-in: Share who you reached out to and how it went, or didn’t.

Key Sermon Takeaways

Psalm 119:33-40 is the hey stanza, the fifth letter of the longest chapter in the Bible’s alphabet-built acrostic, earlier in the walk than the “lamp and path” verses (nun) our youth sat with in July.
Nearly every line of the stanza is a verb aimed at God (teach, give, lead, turn, confirm, long): one long, moving plea rather than eight separate requests.
The three Hebrew words for road (derek, nathiv, binah) show the psalmist asking for companionship on the way, not a map of the destination.
“Turn my heart” and “turn my eyes” use natah, the word for pitching a tent beside someone: a request for nearness, not merely better priorities.
Fearing disgrace over an unmet promise is not weak faith. It is the fear that only comes from staking something real on a relationship.
The psalm’s final longing (ta’avah) reveals what the whole stanza was after all along: not information about God or even outcomes from God, but God himself.

Closing Prayer

(Read aloud together, or led by one person.)

Faithful God, thank you for meeting us honestly in our desperation this week. Whatever we carried into this room, named or unspoken, we lay it in front of you now. Teach us the way, lead us the path, turn our hearts and our eyes, confirm your word to us, and take our shame away. We long for you, not only for what you can do for us. Whatever the weather does this week, in our fields or in our lives, meet us with more of yourself. In Jesus’ name, amen.