Saturday evenings were very predictable in the home in which I grew up. Hee-Haw came on at 6:00 p.m., and my parents tuned in religiously. (Perhaps this is where I developed my extreme dislike for country music.) As there was only one TV in our home at that time, there was no escaping its droll jokes and the twang of guitars and banjos. While I’ve managed to block out most of the memories of the show, the one song I’ve as yet been unsuccessful in purging is “Gloom, Despair, and Agony on Me.” Surely you remember it. The jug-swilling quartet droned and lamented the tragedies of their lives, interspersed between their twanging of the chorus:

Gloom, despair, and agony on me
Deep dark depression, excessive misery
If it weren’t for bad luck I’d have no luck at all
Gloom, despair, and agony on me.

Ever since the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, I’m afraid I’ve begun to relate to the ditty a little more than I’d like. Oh, I tend to keep those thoughts to myself, so even some of my closest friends may be surprised to hear my confession. But my thoughts have a way of spiraling down to this place I don’t like, a place where I’m always “waiting for the other shoe to drop,” expecting another bad thing to happen. “When it rains, it pours;” “Out of the frying pan, into the fire;” “If it’s not one thing, it’s another;” and whatever other idiomatic expression you want to use. Even Shakespeare knew the sentiment. “One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, So fast they follow” (Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 7).

And the thing is, there IS always another calamity. Maybe not the tragedy I feared, but some calamitous event that rattles me, puts me on edge, and amps up my anxiety to uncomfortable levels.

One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, so fast they follow.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

I don’t like to talk about it because, you know, if you say the words it becomes more real and an ever-more-looming possibility.

I will be the first to tell you when you face your own crisis that God is good and He is sovereign. And I believe what I’m saying with all my heart. But I also know that God doesn’t always keep the dreaded event from occurring. His goodness does not mean that what I experience will feel good. You see, He always has a different agenda than I do. He is weaving a beautiful tapestry, while I live in the ugly mess that is the reverse.

I know that God is good. I believe that He is sovereign over every area of my life. And yet I often walk around with a dread of what will happen next. A difficult diagnosis? Loss of a loved one? Yet another natural disaster?

Isaiah 55:9 tells us that “Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, my thoughts and my ways are higher than yours” (Contemporary English Version). His ways are not my ways. What He does often makes no sense in the light of my limited vision and scope. And while I know that it will all work for my good in the end (Romans 8:28), I am often afraid of the pain and suffering that I may experience on my way to the blessed outcome of His agenda.

I long to live with the perspective of Job, who said, “Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” (English Standard Version, Job 2:10). We live in a broken world, where there is no end to pain and suffering.

One thing that my counselor has taught me is that walking with God doesn’t mean that I won’t struggle. It doesn’t mean that I’ll never feel anxious. Or depressed. Or lonely. It means that even in the MIDST of all these things, He is there. He is holding on to me. It means, like Job or David, I can be honest with God about what I’m feeling. He can handle my anger, my disappointment, my railing against the latest turn of events that He could have prevented. And even in my fear and disappointment and lack of understanding, He will be with me. He will hold me. He will comfort me. And I can trust that He will ultimately work it for my good and for His glory.

And so I’ll keep on reminding myself and others of His promises.

It doesn’t mean life will be easier. But I will make every effort to keep my eyes on the prize. The finish line. The place where it will no longer matter that things didn’t go my way, that life was hard, or that it often looked like evil was winning. I read the last chapter. God wins.

Eventually my family obtained a second television set, and I was able to escape the dreaded Saturday dinner hour entertainment and go in the other room to watch Solid Gold, a top ten countdown of pop songs, while my parents continued to enjoy Buck Owens and Roy Clark with all their cohorts and special country-singing guests.

Someday, too, I will escape this fallen world, with all its suffering, for “gold” of a different kind – the true treasure of eternal life in the presence and glory of God, where there will be no more death, mourning, crying, or pain (Revelation 21:4). Until that day, I will continue to struggle, but never alone. (Hebrews 13:5).

Is it simply me? Do you ever find yourself in dread of the next trial you will face? How can you keep your eyes on the prize when life is swirling in uncertainty around you?