Hope in the Valley

"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." — Psalm 31:24 (NIV)

Have you ever received well-intentioned advice that doesn’t quite hit the mark? Maybe someone said, “Just stay positive,” or “Hang in there.” It’s not wrong—but it’s not always helpful either. If you’re in the middle of grief, anxiety, or exhaustion, those words can feel like trying to use an umbrella in a nor'easter in the wind tunnels of downtown Boston.

Today’s verse begins with one of those phrases: “Be strong and take heart.” On its own, it’s a bit like saying, “Buck up!”—a call to courage that assumes we’ve got the reserves to rally. But the strength of this verse isn’t in the first half. It’s in the second: “…all you who hope in the Lord.” That’s the key. We’re not asked to conjure strength from thin air. We’re invited to lean into hope—hope that’s rooted in God’s presence, not our performance.

David knew what it was to feel depleted. He had walked through the “valley of the shadow of death” (Psalm 23:4 NKJV). In Psalm 31, he doesn’t hide his suffering: "Because of all my enemies, I am the utter contempt of my neighbors and an object of dread to my closest friends—those who see me on the street flee from me." (v.11)

This is a man who feels abandoned, even repulsive. And yet—he still turns toward God. He still dares to hope. Why? Because David has seen God’s faithfulness before. He writes:

"You are my rock and my fortress." (v.3)"Into your hands I commit my spirit." (v.5)"You saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul." (v.7)

"You heard my cry for mercy when I called to you for help." (v.22)

This isn’t abstract theology—it’s testimony. And we can borrow it when our own memory falters. Even before we find the words to pray, God is already near—inviting us to hope, to trust, to turn.

So how can we have the same hope?

David’s hope wasn’t wishful thinking. It was forged in the fire of real suffering. He didn’t deny his pain—he brought it to God. That’s the first step for us too: honesty. Not pretending we’re fine, not muscling through with a smile, but naming our fear, our fatigue, our loneliness. Psalm 31 gives us permission to pray from the pit.

We have the same hope when we:

• Root our trust in God’s character, not our circumstances.

• Return to the stories of God’s faithfulness—in Scripture, in our lives, in the lives of others.

• Refuse to isolate, even when we feel like hiding. David’s words became a song for the whole community. Our hope grows when we share it.

And ultimately, we have this hope because of the One who echoed David’s words on the cross: "Into your hands I commit my spirit." (Luke 23:46) Jesus entered the darkest valley and walked through it—not around it—so that we would never be alone in ours. Because he walked through it, we can walk through ours—with hope, not fear.

So yes, we can “be strong and take heart”—not because we’re unshakable, but because the One we hope in is. 

God of refuge, when our strength fails and our hearts falter, remind us that hope is not a solo act. Teach us to lean into your presence, to remember your faithfulness, and to trust your love. Help us name our pain without shame and share our hope without fear. May we be strong—not because we are invincible, but because you are near. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Peace & Grace,

Pastor Tim