This evening, I treated myself to going to watch a friend’s blues duo. It was a fantastic evening with brilliant music. I’ve seen these musicians before, so I have some favourites they play a lot. Tonight, as I was listening, the words of one of them struck me.
“I don’t want to know about evil, I only want to know about love.”
Those words from John Martyn’s Don’t Want to Know have been sitting with me. They feel like a modern-day psalm: raw, honest, wrestling with the state of the world. Because the truth is, you don’t have to look hard to find pain. It’s everywhere. Wars, injustice, suffering. Some days, it feels too much to bear. And like the song says, “Sometimes it gets so hard to listen, hard for me to use my eyes.”
That line struck me. The struggle to see hope. To believe in goodness when darkness seems overwhelming. It reminded me of the psalmist’s cry:
“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?” (Psalm 13:1-2)
The Psalms give us permission to be honest. David didn’t hold back,he poured out his fears, his doubts, his frustrations to God. He didn’t pretend everything was fine. And that’s crucial. Because false positivity – forcing ourselves to say “everything happens for a reason” or “just look on the bright side” – can be dangerous. It doesn’t sustain us when life is hard. What does sustain us is a faith that allows honesty. A faith where we can bring our real, unfiltered emotions before God, knowing that He hears.
David’s psalms often start in despair but don’t end there. Even in the darkest moments, there’s a turning point, a choice to keep trusting. Psalm 13 continues:
“But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.” (Psalm 13:5-6)
That doesn’t mean the pain is gone. But it means David refuses to let darkness have the final word. He holds onto love. Just like in Don’t Want to Know, where the longing is clear, amidst all the evil in the world, we ache to fix our eyes on love.
So maybe that’s our challenge. Not to ignore suffering, but to let ourselves be honest about it. To bring our raw, unfiltered hearts before God. And, in doing so, to hold onto hope. Not a naïve hope that denies reality, but a hope that, even in the darkness, trusts in a love greater than the pain.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 