When Pain Rises

“Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall.” — Psalm 55:22

There are moments in life that don’t feel polished or put together. They feel heavy. Loud. Unsettled.

Psalm 55 opens with that kind of honesty.

David isn’t holding anything back. He writes, “My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught… my heart is in anguish within me… fear and trembling have beset me.” This isn’t a highlight reel. This is raw, unfiltered emotion.

To be distraught is to be shaken deep inside. Think about the agitator in a washing machine. It doesn’t gently move things around. It stirs, twists, and churns everything inside. That’s what internal agitation feels like. And when life hits hard, it’s rarely a mix of good and bad. It often feels like bad and worse.

David even says something that many of us have quietly felt:
“Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.” (Psalm 55:6)

In other words, “I just want out.”

If we’re honest, most of us have been there. Something, or someone, has left us deeply upset, stirred up, maybe even wounded in a way that lingers. And when those moments come, our natural tendencies start to show.

When pain rises, we usually drift toward one of three responses.

1. Run (Take Off)
Running feels instinctive. When fear shows up, our internal alarm says, “Get out.” We avoid the conversation. We distance ourselves from the situation. We look for escape routes.

David felt that pull. He wanted to flee, to disappear into the wilderness where the storm couldn’t reach him.

2. Resist (Take On)
If we don’t run, we often push back. We fight. We defend. We try to take control.

And here’s where it gets complicated. David wasn’t just dealing with enemies. He was dealing with someone close. A companion. A friend. Someone he once worshiped with. It’s one thing to stand your ground against opposition. It’s another when the pain comes from someone you love.

Sometimes resistance doesn’t look like fighting. Sometimes it looks like ignoring. Avoiding. Pretending it didn’t happen. But buried pain doesn’t disappear. It just waits.

3. Rest (Let Go)
This is the one that sounds simple, but often feels the hardest.

After all the tension, all the emotion, all the back-and-forth in David’s heart, he lands here:

“Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you.” (Psalm 55:22)

To cast means to throw, to release, to hand it over with intention. Rest is not doing nothing. It’s choosing to stop carrying what was never yours to hold alone. It’s trusting that God can handle what you cannot fix.

David started this Psalm overwhelmed, shaken, and wanting to escape. But he ends it with a declaration:

“But as for me, I trust in You.” (Psalm 55:23)

That shift matters.

He doesn’t deny the pain. He doesn’t pretend everything is fine. He simply moves the weight from his shoulders to God’s hands.

That’s where rest is found.

Not in running away.
Not in fighting harder.
But in surrendering deeper.

A Simple Challenge

Take a moment and ask yourself honestly:

What do I usually do when life gets heavy?
Do I run?
Do I resist?
Or do I rest?

Whatever you’re carrying today, don’t hold onto it any longer than you have to.

Give it to Him. All of it. The frustration, the hurt, the confusion, even the disappointment that came from someone close.

He won’t drop it.
He won’t ignore it.
And He won’t let you fall.

A Cup of Joe Prayer ☕️

“Lord, I release what I’ve been holding. The weight, the worry, the hurt—I place it in Your hands. Teach me to trust You more than my instincts to run or resist. As for me, I will trust and rest in You. Amen.”