If the Lord had not helped me….

I recently passed another birthday.

In the days afterward, I felt both gratitude and grief mingle. Aching places and joyful places. Questions, longings, sighs. But also awe at how our God meets us in all of it.

How my God has met me day after day – after day.

As I looked back on the past year, the words of Psalm 94:17–19 kept echoing in my soul:

17 If the Lord had not been my help,
my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.

18 When I thought, “My foot slips,”
your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.

19 When the cares of my heart are many,
your consolations cheer my soul.

It was a challenging year in many ways. Not to the extent of the early months and years that followed my ex-husband’s arrest and the intense grief and darkness and fear that permeated life in those days.

Not even close.

But it was – and continues to be – a more challenging season than the past several years.

I believe that is why I have found myself pulled toward these words in Psalms time and time again since early in the year. They have become a light in the darkness. A signpost.

A reminder that even when I am discouraged and in those times that I may not sense God’s presence, his kindness, sovereignty, justice, mercy, and grace are still at work.

The honesty of “I would have dwelt in silence….”

Verse 17 catches my breath: “Unless the Lord had given me help, I would soon have dwelt in the silence of death.” The psalmist is raw: without God’s intervention, things would have ended badly. There are seasons when I have felt that same way — that without God intervening, I would be swallowed by silence or despair.

Sometimes the silence is external: a disappointment too heavy to speak. Other times it’s internal: the hush when faith seems distant, and words falter. But even there — even in that silence — God gives help. He reaches in to what feels like nothingness.

On this birthday, I look back and see places where I didn’t know how I would make it. But God’s hand was already there, sovereign beyond what I could see or even name.

“My foot is slipping” — the fragile posture of trust.

Verse 18 says, “When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.“

This is vulnerable language. It doesn’t pretend we stand firm always. We do slip. We falter.

I falter.

The strength of the Christian life is not our perfect adherance to a plan. I cannot achieve it. I cannot work hard enough. Check enough boxes.

Rather, it is God’s unshakable love supporting us when we can’t stand on our own.

In this past year, I’ve had moments when I have reached for the comfort of old doubts and fears. Moments when I did not sense God’s presence. Days when I deliberately chose to not pray…to not study…to not lay my soul before my God, out of stubbornness and foolishness.

And yet I know – as sure as I know another year has passed – that His steadfast love has kept me (see Jude 1). The hands of mercy reached down, His gentle fingers steadying what was unsteady.

That is grace.

Cares and Consolations

Verse 19: “When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.“

Oh, how that describes this past year. Doubts. Joys. Fears. Griefs. Gratitude. Nightmares. All of it spinning in my soul. Some days I wrestled not merely with circumstances, but with the very things of God that I know to be truth.

But then — consolations. His truths that press in. Reminders that He is just, that he is good, that he has been so very faithful and kind, that He sees and knows, and that He reigns. In the midst of struggle, He gave me glimpses: the giggles of my grandsons, a sunrise, scriptures, books, time with my family, roadtrip adventures with my guy.

Those consolations did more than soothe; they cheered my soul.

They tasted of heaven.

The Attributes That Hold Us

Psalm 94:17–19 is not a neat theology lesson — it’s a lived testimony of the whole character of God:

Sovereignty — The Lord is the one who helps, the one who rules over even what I cannot control.
Kindness — His steadfast love holds me when my foot slips.
Justice — He is the God who will not forget His people or abandon them to silence.
Mercy — He meets me in weakness and sinfulness with compassion and forgiveness.
Grace — He fills my weary heart with consolations that I did not earn.

This is the God who carried me through another year. And this is the God who goes with me into the next.

A prayer.

Lord,
When my feet slip, You hold me up by Your steadfast love.
When my mind is undone, You hold me together.
When my soul is weary, You bring consolations that delight.
You are just, you are kind, you are merciful, you are gracious — and You reign.
Thank You for another year, for weakness that draws me to You, and for the gifts of Your goodness.
May I walk in deeper trust this year, leaning into Your kindness, resting in Your sovereignty, and ever grateful for Your mercy and grace.
Amen.