Not long after we lost Julian, I came across Psalm 125:5-6. Though I’m sure I’d read it many times before, suffering has a way of bringing Scripture into sharper focus. The mental picture—of someone going to and fro, weeping, while carrying a bag of seed—intrigued me and made me want to dig in deeper.
As I read this passage, I saw the sower. Her tear-stained face and her heart heavier than the bag of seeds she was carrying. She was scattering her seeds through her sorrow, and that mental picture was one that shaped me that day.
It’s not a loud picture. Not a scene of triumph. But one of faithful endurance. And somehow, this is the image God chose to describe the life of the one who will reap with joy.
When You Feel Too Empty to Give
Some seasons leave us feeling emptied out—so broken or worn down that we wonder if we have anything left to offer.
Grief can make us feel disqualified.
Illness can leave us isolated, unable to do what we once could.
Despair narrows our vision until all we can see is our own pain.
Illness can leave us isolated, unable to do what we once could.
Despair narrows our vision until all we can see is our own pain.
We may feel too weak, too wounded, or too weary to be of any use. And yet, even in that emptiness, God invites us to sow. To show up. To scatter seed—not in our strength, but in our surrender.
When the Couch becomes a Pulpit
In his sermon entitled Tearful Sowing and Joyful Reaping, Spurgeon says of this psalm,
“To shed tears, and yet to sow; to be racked with pain, and to turn the couch into a pulpit; to make the sick bed a tribune from which to tell of the love of Christ—Oh, this is blessed living!”
To sow in sorrow is not weakness—it is holy.
To keep serving when you feel broken is not foolish—it is fruitful.
To keep serving when you feel broken is not foolish—it is fruitful.
The Miracle in the Pouring
Sometimes, as we dare to pour out what little we have, we find that God meets us in the pouring. Like the widow whose jar of oil was never empty, He fills us as we pour. The miracle happens not before, but during. Not when we’ve been restored, but while we’re still a work in progress.
“If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness, and your gloom will become like midday.” —Isaiah 58:10
“[He] comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction…” —2 Corinthians 1:4
When the Healing Begins
This is the strange grace of sowing while weeping—comforting while grieving, serving while suffering.
And I’ve seen it happen in my own life:
When I speak words of hope even with a shaky voice…
When I pray for others while still battling doubt of my own…
When I encourage someone else through the very ache I still carry…
Somehow, healing begins.
Keep Sowing, Even in Sorrow
So if you are in a season of sorrow, sickness, or silent suffering—
I encourage you not to wait until the pain passes or until you feel like you have your life all together, your grief in check, and your healing complete.
I encourage you not to wait until the pain passes or until you feel like you have your life all together, your grief in check, and your healing complete.
That will never fully happen this side of heaven.
But still, go to and fro with your bag of seed.
Let your tears water someone else’s dry ground.
Be faithful to sow, even in sorrow—and trust that God will do the hidden work, both in others and in you.
The Weeping Doesn’t Last Forever
Because the weeping doesn’t last forever.
The sowing is not the end of the story.
The harvest will come.
The sowing is not the end of the story.
The harvest will come.
Find strength in the promise that is given us:
“In due season, they shall reap.”
What I've been reading this week
Ah! This book is SO good! I learned about Curt Thompson from my Neuroscience class last semester. He wrote one of my required reading books, The Anatomy of the Soul. Because of his insights into neurobiology woven throughout this book, the class I dreaded became one of my favorites so far.
When I saw he released a new book, I grabbed it right away. And it hasn't disappointed!
In The Deepest Place, Dr. Curt Thompson reminds us that suffering isn’t the end of the story—it’s the very place where faith, hope, and perseverance can take root. We can flourish, not in spite of sorrow but in its presence.
If you too are looking for hope in your suffering, grab your copy of his new book, The Deepest Place. You won't regret it!
I hope you have a beautiful week!
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