Remember the last time you walked through a dark room and nicked your shin, stubbed your toe, or smacked your head so painfully you wanted to scream at whoever didn’t turn the light on?

Then you remembered YOU forgot to flip the switch.

It’s not easy to navigate through the dark. Of course, we should turn on a light, but that’s not my point. Instead, I want you to consider this question: What do we watch for when we are in the dark?

Where do we turn in those places fueled by fear and filled with despair? And, if we spiral too far into the depths, what do we scream about when we are there?

At the beginning of Psalm 130, we meet the psalmist in a dark place of profound despair.

“Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.” (Psalm 130:1-2, NIV)

The psalmist is in what some might call the realm of the dead, because of his sins and the sins of his people. And his concern is that God may or may not be paying attention.

He writes, “If you kept track of sins, Lord — my Lord, who would stand a chance?” (Psalm 130:3 CEB)

I think we all can relate to this prayer and place of honesty. When we are in the dark, it is easy to wonder what God is doing. In despair we worry that God might be watching for our wrongs and waiting for the right time to pounce.

But our simple fears of how God is watching us are usually misguided. If we move past the simple fears and watch God work, we will eventually realize his watching is what we really long for — it’s not something to worry about. For in his watching, he is looking to forgive and redeem.

The Psalmist quickly brushes aside the fears of punishment with the assuredness of God’s forgiveness.

“But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.” (Psalm 130:4)

He is not concerned about punishment for punishment’s sake. Rather, he has considered God’s real presence. And in this heavenly fear he has no earthly reason to fear anything else. His fear of God casts out all other fears.

With this confidence, the Psalmist can wait and watch in the dark. He writes,

“5 I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. 6 I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. 7 Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. 8 He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.” (Psalm 130:5-8 NIV)

The psalmist can wait in the dark with hope. And this is not despite the dark, but because of it.

At first this seems undesirable and even nonsensical, but there is no other way. After all, we cannot hope for the morning when it is morning. We hope for the morning when it is night. We can’t hope for the day without the dark.

As the apostle Paul says, “…But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not have, we wait for it patiently.” (Romans 8:24-25)

We hope when we cannot see and we can hope in the dark because the morning will come. But even more than that — and this is where it gets crazy good — God’s love is more reliable than the arrival of the morning!

Read again how the psalmist describes his hopeful waiting. In verse 6, he declares his hope is more hopeful than the city watchmen who wait for the morning to come.

One way of reading it is, “more than the morning watchers who watch for the morning.” Reading it like this helps us see the emphasis of this confidence.

The psalmist’s hope for redemption is more than the watcher’s hope for the morning. And it’s this kind of hope that helps us watch and wait in the dark.

Are you in a place of despair or darkness, questioning if God sees you or not? Rest assured, He is watching you. Not watching out for your sins, but for your salvation. 

As the watchmen hope for the morning, they are waiting for safety, security and the salvation from night. Our hope is that and more. It is a longing for God’s new mercies. It’s a promise ultimately found in Christ and is surer than daylight.

Zechariah prophesied this reality: “Because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven.” (Luke 1:78)

Because of the mercy of Christ, we also wait for the morning with confidence. We can hope in the dark for the sun to rise because the Son has risen.

So, if you find yourself in the dark, crying out for help, remember that you are ready to encounter the invisible God. In his unfailing love, he will meet you in the depths of darkness and cultivate a hope for all that is good.