Bound, But Thankful
By Anthony Casperson
11-22-25

We certainly are hurtling toward the end of the year. Toward the time of Thanksgiving in America this coming Thursday. Toward Christmas four weeks after that. And the New Year the week after.

However, that means we’re also hurtling toward gathered family dinners, festive parties, and numerous other holiday traditions. Along with the stress, depression, and anxiety that all of those things mean.

Some might be thinking about those difficult conversations that we dread are coming. The encroaching crowds that we can’t get away from. Or the loneliness that haunts us when we realize we have no one to share the holidays with.

It’s no wonder why the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas increases the prevalence of depression, anxiety, and the distressing actions that come along with.

This is also why, during the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I usually take the time to write about dealing with these dark times. To help us consider the biblical perspective on the topic. Without a “fake it until you make it” perspective, or the proverbial smiley face masks that many demand we wear this time of year.

And I know that it’s the weekend before Thanksgiving. I’m a bit early this year. Some might even be expecting the typical “Be thankful” message that pastors will give this weekend.

But given the state of the world around us, I figured an extra week talking about all of this might be a good idea. (I also had a five-week series in mind. And one of them had the word “thanksgiving” in it. So, I decided to go with it.)

When it comes to the bible, few places deal with the raw emotion of God’s people better than the book of Psalms. The songwriters who lead the people of God in worship are able to portray our need and God’s greatness with ecstatic beauty. They aid us in praising him, no matter our situation.

And I hope to lead us over this week—and the next four after—to join them in worshiping our God. Specifically in the times of sorrow, grief, and pain.

For this week I hope to look at Psalm 147.

The psalmist begins with a general call to praise the Lord. Sing glory to Yahweh. It’s not only a refrain within the psalm, but also the well-known phrase of hallelujah.

I know that many who struggle with the difficulties of this life, especially during this season, don’t usually want to sing forth a hallelujah. It sounds too much like people just telling us to put a smile on our faces. But this call isn’t to bring us to a sigh-inducing response of a grudging hallelujah.

It’s a word of truth about the worth of the God we serve.

Singing these praises is good and right and fitting. And that’s regardless of how well our life is going at this present moment. Even in the darkest depths of depression, anxiety, and stress, our God is worthy of being praised. And we see why in the following verses.

For us, I want to emphasize the words at the end of verse 2, as well as those from verse 3.

The first of these says that Yahweh gathers the outcast. Those who have been banished. Scattered. Led astray. These, he wraps his arms around. He collects those who no one else wants. Chases after them. And calls them to be his.

Do you belong to any of these categories? I know I have long felt like I do. The good news—the gospel—for us is that he wants us. And he desires to be there for us.

Verse 3 tells us what he does with those whom he gathers. He heals the heartbroken and mends their wounds. When our hearts have been shattered by the troubles of the world, when we want nothing more than for the pain to stop, the Healer approaches us with tender hands.

He binds the wound. Wraps our pain with his covenantal faithfulness. Our grief and sorrow meet the steadfast love of the Almighty.

Some of us might believe that our pain is too great. Or our troubles are too deep for his grace to find us. But verses 4-6 bring to light the faintest edges of his amazing power.

He is the God who decided on the number of stars in the universe. He knows them each by their name—just as he knows ours. He is the great Lord of everything. One overflowing with power. His knowledge and wisdom know no bounds.

This is the one who tends to our sorrow. No pain or grief is too much for him to heal, or too difficult for him to let us lean on him as he walks us through the trials of this life. No amount of sorrow is too much for him to help us through.

In humility, we come to him. And in power, he provides for those who are his.

This is why verse 7 blends so closely into the refrain of, “Praise the Lord,” when it says, “Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving.” We thank him with the humility that is our only possible response. Thankful for his grace.

Thankful, even if his binding of our wounds doesn’t mean immediate or permanent healing. It’s not a guarantee of perfect psychological balance, or a return to whatever we think is supposed to be “normal.” But it is a promise that he is with us in it all. Working in us the perfect holiness he has for us.

A limb in a cast is as much proof of tender medical care as a completely healed one. Only in the case of God, he is also our cast, our crutches, our wheelchair. He’s everything we need to get us in the direction of healing.

The rest of the psalm, verses 8-20, shed light on more of God’s greatness and might. And I could spell out the power of his control over the weather, his favor in feeding the animals of the land, and the rest of his grace toward humanity, but maybe, I should leave that for you to read over this next week.

However, there is one last section of those verses I wish for us to focus on. Verses 10-11 stand in the center of the song. They make up the central theme of the psalm.

They tell us why this amazingly powerful God chooses to work this binding of our wounds.

It’s not power or strength in which God finds delight. No, if he needed more might, there are far better places he could look than to sinful and sorrowful humanity.

Instead, he finds pleasure in those who fear him. And lest we believe that God wants us to cower before him, the psalmist adds a parallel line of God delighting in those who hope in his steadfast love. The Hebrew can be read to say, “those waiting for his loyal favor.”

What this means is that God finds delight in us when we call out to him in our distress and sorrow and pain. We’re not a bother to him when we need to be healed. Rather, we’re exactly the people he longs to smile upon and gather to him.

He binds up our sorrow while wrapping us in his arms.

If we’re in the midst of grief and pain and sorrow during the next few weeks, let’s remember the amazingly powerful God who longs to gather us in his arms and bind our wounds. Let us humble ourselves before him as we await his steadfast love.

And let us, with thanksgiving, sing praise to the Lord.

Hallelujah.