In the tribulations of our lives, it is not the events themselves that wound us, but the untruthful messages which we may take away from those events.

As Arlene Hendriks notes in Treasures Out of Trauma, the enemy uses these troublesome moments to plant lies in our souls. However, the powerful truths of God’s Word—specifically today the promises of Psalm 27—have the power to overwrite lies with eternal truth.

My journey with Psalm 27 began in 2001 in Northern Nigeria. My husband, Randy, and I were serving together as missionary physicians when a sudden, terrifying illness crashed his health. Winded, coughing up blood, too weak to stand, blood pressure 60/30, he collapsed in our bedroom. It took 3 of us to load my husband into the back seat for a desperate van ride to the better equipped hospital, holding IV bags as we raced against time, praying every mile of the way.

As Randy lay exhausted, gasping in whispers, “I can’t keep this up” I first pleaded repetitively a “rosary” type chant begging “God, please don’t let him die! Don’t let him die!” I felt desperate: our children were still young and we were so alone in a foreign country.

As I negotiated with God, He shifted my mindset toward relinquishment. “LORD, if You take my husband, I know You will take care of us.” In that moment of surrender, I leaned on Psalm 27, recognizing God as my strength and my shield from fear.

Verse 1 reassured me God was my light in a dark and foreboding situation.

Verse 3 encouraged me to be confident even though illness was our threatening enemy.

Verse 6 promised my head would be lifted up, raised in praise, offering joyful sacrifices or feasts. I could even sing knowing God was greater than my current anxieties. (Ps 94:19) His plans and ways were higher than mine. (Isa 55:8-9)

Randy was simultaneously fighting his personal battle to stay alive in the ICU. As his human strength waned, he reached a point of complete surrender, finding his peace in a simple request from Psalm 27 verse 4:

My husband was ready to bask in the sanctuary of God’s presence, even if it meant leaving his family and entering his eternal rest.

Then God miraculously sent a life flight to speed us from Nigeria to France where a ventilator would be available if needed.

God did spare Randy from death. Yet, I realized that even if the outcome had been different and he was laid to rest, the lie—that God didn’t care or wasn’t there—was already defeated by the truth that God, my eternal Provider was even more loving and capable than any earthly husband could be.

I believed that God was a tangible and powerful presence for me, even if human companionship evaporated.

Psalm 27 corrected another lie rooted in fear of abandonment. I had lost my mother to suicide just before my eighteenth birthday. Decades later, after a painful realization that I was looking for a “mother figure” in a teacher who could not fulfill that role, the Lord gently nudged me back to His Word.

Psalm 27:10 assures

This verse spoke directly to the wound of my youth. It reminded me that when earthly parents are absent, God lifts us up and wants to gather us under His wings like a hen gathers her chicks. (Matthew 23:37 and Luke 13:34)

Psalm 27 in music:

When I was a child, Psalm 27 was often performed as a “bombastic” vocal solo accompanied by a crashing piano with 8 note chords. Today, the power remains in the words of Psalm 27. It serves as a reminder of how big, powerful, and capable our God truly is.

He is my light, my salvation and the strength of my life.