Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.—Psalm 42:5-8

[A]nd hope does not disappoint us.—Romans 5:5a

In 2013, I stood in the US embassy in Seoul, South Korea, with my friend, colleague, and assistant pastor at the church I was serving. He was from Nigeria, and though he was working on his PhD in Missional Theology, we had worked together to get him placement at Princeton. We had received word a month previously that he had been awarded the full-tuition Presidential Scholarship as well as a generous stipend to cover living costs for him and his family. Suffice it to say, at an institution like Princeton, scholarships like these are rare.

As I stood in line with him at the embassy, I was excited for him and his family. We were friends, and now we would have the opportunity to study and continue working together for the sake of the kingdom. Eventually, his number was called, and along with his family, we all walked up to the window and went through the process of reviewing his I-20 application.

The clerk reviewed his application, and asked him his intentions. He proudly replied that he had received this prestigious scholarship and was bound for study at Princeton. I stood at his side, just happy to witness this event. I had stood in that same spot with two previous students I had written letters of support for, and had watched them receive successful admittance. I was sure the same would be true today.

The clerk’s face quickly soured. She told my friend Nehemiah she was denying his I-20 application for a student visa. I was dumbstruck. Nehemiah looked at me, his face pale. He began pleading with the woman. He only wanted to study, and he would follow the rules. Seeing that this was going nowhere, I stepped in and pleaded his case. I identified myself as one of the people who had written him a letter of recommendation as well as support and told her that he was a coworker at the church, and anything else I could manage to think of. Still she insisted on denying the request. I asked bluntly, “But why? He is heading to a prestigious school, and they recognize his worth. He is the best of us.” She then turned to me and said, “He is from a poor country, and I don’t believe he will leave the US when his degree is complete.”

I was horrified on so many levels, and not just for Nehemiah. To be honest with you, a bit of my optimism died that day. We had prayed so intently, and everything seemed to have lined up correctly. Where was God when we needed him? Of course, I didn’t give up. When I returned to the US, I continued a twelve-month campaign of writing senators and representatives, pleading Nehemiah’s case. It went nowhere.

Fast forward to Monday, November 23, 2020. When I awoke that morning, I received a message from my friend Nehemiah that after a second I-20 application, his daughter was granted admittance to the United States to begin a course of study at King University. My words printed on this page cannot begin to express my excitement and my joy.

You see, when Favour, Nehemiah’s daughter, applied and was rejected last year, all of that hopelessness arose in my heart again, and I thought that her hardship was just a repeat of what had come before. I was wounded the more because she was too young to experience such hardness in life.

Like the Psalmist, both Nehemiah and I had been asking the question in verse 5: “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?” When the contours of hope are defined only by life and its most bitter experiences, this question flows naturally.

Yet today I stand on the other side of the vast wilderness space that opened seven years ago, and I begin to see God’s hand at work in all these things. I am seeing how God was at work, purposing to make sure Nehemiah went back to establish the Spurgeon Hope Ministry to help those in need. I am just starting to see that, though Nehemiah wasn’t granted his great desire to study here, God has made a way for the daughter of his heart.

“Deep calls to deep,” the Psalmist tells us. I wholeheartedly believe that this means that only when we learn to cry out to God in great longing can we experience the depths of God’s saving love, a love that offers deliverance even when all seems lost. The only kind of hope that really sustains is hope born when our deepest groans meet the greater depths of God’s compassion.

God’s love is steadfast. I had that lesson taught to me once more, and I give thanks. As you gather around your tables to give thanks this week, whether that table be large or small, just know that God is present, God delivers, God saves. Hope in the Lord, for indeed, he is our help, and the One who truly gives life.

In Christ,

Pastor Sam

Nov. 29     Carolyn Moore, Andrew Porter, Sam Story

Nov. 30     Charlotte Osborne

Dec. 1       Deidre Pendley

Dec. 5       Linda Poteat

November 15, 2020

Our love and sympathy are with John Graham in the death of his mother, Martha Graham, in Clearwater, Florida, on November 23.