But just like the Psalmist, we don't stop with suffering, but instead we move forward, remembering who God is. God is holy, and we worship. God is enthroned, and we worship. God has moved in the past and been faithful, and we trust.
We move on, praying on behalf of those who feel less than human, those who feel rejected and mocked, those who equate God's presence and favor with their performance, and we ask God to remind them of His presence, to reveal to them His constant love for them, even since birth.
We pray against fear, against enemies, against the lies of the evil one that attack and gore our faith. We pray against the things that feel to strong for us and those we know, and we ask that God reveal His goodness, that He bring us to a place of seeing that He has answered our cry in the cross of Christ and His resurrection.
And then we move to worship, instructing our soul in who God is: the God who listens and does not despise us in our suffering; the God who leads us into worship; the God whose name is sure; the God who satisfies the poor; the God who commands the worship of rich and poor alike; the God who will be worshipped by all the nations; the God who has done all that is needed to answer the suffering and brokenness of our world.
God doesn't always fix our suffering in the way that we want Him to. He doesn't always heal this side of heaven. He didn't spare His own son from suffering and death, and He doesn't always spare us. But the promise is that on the other side is life, life, and more life. Christ's suffering won life for the nations, for generations to come, and somehow in the midst of pain and struggle, the life of God continues to emerge, leading others to worship.