Lent Devotional

"Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth" let Israel now say — "Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth, yet they have not prevailed against me. The plowers plowed upon my back; they made long their furrows." The Lord is righteous; he has cut the cords of the wicked. May all who hate Zion be put to shame and turned backward! Let them be like the grass on the housetops, which withers before it grows up, with which the reaper does not fill his hand nor the binder of sheaves his arms, nor do those who pass by say, "The blessing of the Lord be upon you! We bless you in the name of the Lord!" - Psalm 129

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Hi, I'm Dora Deras. My family and I have been part of the Fellowship Dallas since January 2021. I've enjoyed being involved in various ways through this church community, such as being in a life group, leading a table at the women's Bible study, serving on our card team, and being a STEPS mentor. I've also enjoyed working with "Little Things Matter", which is a heart-healing trauma workshop and summer camp in Mexico, which has also led me to local volunteer opportunities in our city! I have a husband named Fred and an adult son named Esteban. Today, I want to reflect on Psalm 129 and a devotional I'd title "Different, Yet Deeply Loved: God's Faithfulness When the Mind Returns to Childhood."

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Sitting in the ER beside my family member, I watched dementia quickly fold him back into childhood. The same hands that once lifted me with strength were now thin, fragile — moving through the air as if conducting an invisible orchestra. My throat tightened as I fought back tears, trying to be the strength he could lean on. And yet, in that quiet ache, Christ met me. The Holy Spirit whispered courage, and my husband's gentle smile reminded me I was not carrying this weight alone. Stepping into the hallway for breath, I glanced into the next room and felt drawn inside. A father comforting his adult son with autism. I heard the tenderness in his voice as the steady rhythm of his hand rubbed his son's back. When our eyes met, he offered a softness I will never forget. "They're similar," he said gently. "Autism and dementia — different causes, but the childlikeness is the same." His son walked toward me and wrapped me in an unexpected bear hug. Then the father added, "I've been here almost a month; the staff will care for your family member well." His kindness and his son's warm embrace eased my anxious soul. In that moment, I witnessed perseverance, and I knew then that I could persevere.

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Psalm 129:2 is the song of a people pressed hard yet never abandoned. "Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth… yet they have not prevailed against me." Christ is in this very passage — the God who refuses to let suffering speak the final word. Not by removing sorrow, but by filling it with His presence so that we can persevere. If we pause to truly see and listen, we'll notice God walks with the afflicted. Jesus himself became a child, entered our frailty, and sanctified it. And as I watched my loved one lean on me with childlike dependence, I felt God inviting me to do the same — repenting of my self-reliance and learning again to trust my Savior. Christ welcomes the weak first, and in His strength, we find ours.

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Psalm 129 reflects God's continual offer to his people — from Adam and Eve to Moses and Israel in the wilderness, through kings and prophets, and ultimately God descending to become a man called Jesus Christ. His love perseveres unlike ours: relentless, rescuing, and never withdrawing. This psalm reminds me that all of Scripture, from Genesis to today, reveals a God who keeps offering Himself, while humanity has a choice to accept or reject Him and His love. Lord, I pray that anyone reading this — straining to ascend uphill through the adversities of life — would not struggle alone. Teach their hearts and minds to recognize your daily invitation to choose You, daily. Amen.