A Quiet Hope: Sitting Alone With God

Lamentations 3:25–29 (KJV):

“The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.

It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.

It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.

He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him.

He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there may be hope.”

There’s something honest in this passage—no polish, no sweeping promises of immediate rescue. Just truth. And sometimes that’s exactly what we need. Not someone telling us it’ll all be okay by morning, but someone reminding us that God is still good, even when the night’s long and the silence heavy.

Jeremiah—the man who wrote Lamentations—wasn’t writing from a mountaintop. He was sitting in the ruins of Jerusalem, surrounded by loss. But even in that place, he didn’t let go of the truth: “The Lord is good unto them that wait for him.” That’s not easy. Waiting, especially in pain, feels unnatural. But Scripture says it’s good—not comfortable, not pleasant—but good.

There’s a kind of soul-work that only happens in quiet. Verse 28 says, “He sitteth alone and keepeth silence.” That might feel like loneliness, but maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s space—space for God to speak. Or for us to listen. We’re used to filling the silence, rushing to fix things. But God often works in stillness.

“He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there may be hope.” That’s a hard image. Face down in the dirt. But it’s not hopeless. There’s humility in it, surrender, and somehow—even there—hope. Not the loud, flashy kind. The quiet kind that flickers, but doesn’t go out.

This is a word for the weary. For the one who’s tried everything and is just tired. The Lord is still good. He hasn’t forgotten. He sees the one who seeks Him. There’s value in the quiet waiting, even if the world doesn’t reward it. God does.

So if all you can do today is sit in silence and whisper a prayer, that’s enough. God is near to those who wait with a seeking heart. There’s hope, even here.