Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Scripture Reading: Joshua 20-22; Luke 11; Psalm 88

“You have taken from me friend and neighbor—darkness is my closest friend.”
—Psalm 88:18 (NIV)

Some psalms end in praise. Some in hope. Psalm 88 ends in darkness.

The writer, Heman the Ezrahite, is drowning in sorrow. He prays day and night, but feels unheard. His strength is gone, his friends have abandoned him, and even God seems distant. There is no sudden turn toward hope, no breakthrough, no tidy resolution—just raw, unfiltered pain.

And yet... it's Scripture. God chose to include this cry in His Word. That tells us something profound: God makes space for unanswered prayers. For grief that lingers. For darkness that doesn’t lift overnight.

Psalm 88 gives us permission to lament. Not only that—it gives our lament dignity. Even when the psalmist feels forgotten by God, he keeps praying. His faith isn’t found in feeling God’s presence, but in refusing to let go. That’s faith in its most stripped-down form: a cry in the dark.

When we come to Jesus, we come to someone who knows Psalm 88 from the inside. He prayed in Gethsemane with sweat like drops of blood. He cried out from the cross, “Why have You forsaken Me?” Jesus didn’t just sympathize with sorrow—He entered it. And He did it so that we would never be truly abandoned, even when it feels like we are.

Psalm 88 may end in darkness, but the story doesn’t. Jesus went into the tomb—and rose. So when your soul feels stuck in this psalm, remember: it’s not the end of the book. Resurrection is still coming.

And that is an important reality to remember, especially this week as we count down the days until Easter Sunday when we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. When I talk about our suffering and remembering it is not the end of the story and how the resurrection is still coming, I am not speaking in allegory or metaphors. This is a physical, historical truth.

Jesus rose from the grave and, because of that, whatever is wrong will be made right.

This is a dark Psalm. We can be thankful it is here in the Book of Psalms. It reminds us that we are not alone in our suffering, that Christ walked this path as well, and He will walk through it with us. It reminds us that some nights last much longer than we had hoped and not every prayer end with an immediate resolution to the problem.

Lord,
There are times when I can’t feel You. When I pray, and it feels like silence answers back. When sorrow seems stronger than hope. Thank You for including Psalm 88 in Your Word—to show me I’m not alone in this experience.

Thank You that even in my lowest moments, I can still cry out to You—and that You hear me, even when I don’t sense it.

Thank You, Jesus, for stepping into the deepest darkness so that I would never have to face it without You. Give me the strength to keep praying, to keep hoping, and to trust that this season isn’t the end. Amen.