I Will See the Goodness of the Lord

By Jennifer Shook

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” –Psalm 27:13–14 (NIV)

For years, I unknowingly measured God’s goodness by outcomes.

Goodness meant my husband staying sober.

Goodness meant a peaceful marriage.

Goodness meant ministry flourishing and life moving forward the way I had imagined.

If those things were happening, I believed God was being good.

But what happens when they aren’t?

After my husband relapsed following seventeen years of sobriety, everything I thought I could count on suddenly felt uncertain. The future I had imagined—the one I believed we had fought so hard to rebuild—seemed to unravel before my eyes.

I loved God. I knew the right Scriptures. I had watched Him do miracles before.

But in that season, I found myself wrestling with a question I had never really had to ask before:

Is God still good when my life doesn’t feel good?

Maybe you’ve asked that question too.

Maybe your story looks different than mine. Perhaps you’re waiting for healing, reconciliation, a prodigal child to return, a diagnosis to change, or a prayer you’ve carried for years to finally be answered.

It’s easy to believe we’ll see God’s goodness when our circumstances change.

I’ll see His goodness when my marriage is restored.

When my child comes home.

When the anxiety lifts.

When the relationship is healed.

For a long time, that was how I thought too.

Then I came across David’s words in Psalm 27:

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

The words that captured my heart weren’t simply the goodness of the Lord.

It was the land of the living.

David wasn’t writing after every battle had been won. He wasn’t describing a life free from hardship. He believed he would experience God’s goodness right in the middle of uncertainty, fear, waiting, and unanswered questions.

That changed the way I began looking for God.

Instead of asking, “Lord, when are You going to fix this?” I slowly began asking, “Lord, where are You being good to me today?”

One of the biggest turning points came when I realized I couldn’t keep living with all of my attention focused on my husband. Every day, I wondered what he was doing, whether he was telling the truth, or how I could help him make better choices. My peace rose and fell with his decisions.

Then, in the middle of all that heartache, I sensed the Lord gently asking me a different question:

“Jennifer, what if I want to heal you in the middle of this?”

That question stopped me in my tracks.

For so long, my prayers had centered on one thing:

“Lord, change him.”

But slowly, almost reluctantly, my prayer began to change.

“Lord...what do You want to do in me?”

It wasn’t the prayer I wanted to pray.

I wanted my circumstances to change.

Instead, God began changing me.

He met me in my fear and taught me what it meant to be safe in His love. He gently loosened my grip on the things I couldn’t control and anchored my heart in His unchanging presence. Little by little, I discovered that His goodness wasn’t waiting on the other side of my husband’s recovery—it was already meeting me, right there in the middle of my own healing.

As my perspective changed, I began noticing His goodness in places I had overlooked before.

It looked like the women God surrounded me with. Women who didn’t pressure me to be stronger or to have more faith. They simply sat with me in my grief. They listened without judgment, prayed when I couldn’t find the words, reminded me of God’s truth when fear felt louder, and gently pointed me back to Jesus again and again.

Looking back, I realize I wasn’t just experiencing the kindness of friends.

I was experiencing the goodness of God.

His goodness looked like opening my Bible on mornings when I felt too exhausted to read more than a few verses yet finding just enough hope to take the next step.

It looked like counselors who walked beside us.

Moments of worship that lifted my eyes off my circumstances.

Unexpected peace that didn’t make sense.

None of those things immediately changed my situation.

But every one of them revealed God’s goodness.

I almost missed it because I had defined His goodness too narrowly.

I thought His goodness meant a pain-free life.

He showed me His goodness was His presence.

I thought His goodness meant certainty.

He showed me His goodness was giving me enough grace for today.

I thought His goodness meant changing the people around me.

He was quietly changing me.

Some of the deepest healing in my life didn’t happen after the crisis ended.

It happened while I was learning to trust God in the middle of it.

Waiting stopped feeling like wasted time.

It became holy ground where God gently untangled my fear, my need for control, and the belief that my peace depended on someone else’s choices.

I used to think seeing the goodness of the Lord meant watching Him transform my husband.

Now I realize one of the greatest displays of His goodness was watching Him transform me.

He took a woman who lived bracing for the next crisis and taught her she was safe with Him.

He took a woman who believed peace depended on someone else’s choices and anchored her in His presence.

He took a woman who spent years trying to rescue everyone else and gently taught her to rest.

Today, when I look back over that painful season, I don’t remember only the heartbreak.

I remember the women God sent.

I remember the Scriptures that carried me.

I remember the quiet mornings when His mercy met me before my feet hit the floor.

I remember laughing again when I thought I never would.

Most of all, I remember discovering a deeper relationship with Jesus than I would have known had my life unfolded according to my plans.

Today, there are still prayers I’m praying.

There are still questions I can’t answer.

But I can say with David,

“I remain confident of this...”

Not because life has gone exactly as I hoped.

But because I have seen His goodness.

I’ve seen it in tears that became prayers.

In friendships that carried me.

In unexpected peace.

In strength that wasn’t my own.

His goodness didn’t always remove the valley.

Sometimes His goodness was simply that He walked through it with me.

If you’re in a season of waiting today, don’t believe the lie that God’s goodness is on hold until your circumstances change.

Instead, ask Him to open your eyes.

His goodness may not look the way you expected.

It may show up in a faithful friend.

A whispered prayer.

A verse that gives you strength for one more day.

A peace you can’t explain.

Or in the quiet work He’s doing inside your own heart.

Today, when I read Psalm 27, I no longer read it as a promise that life will always turn out the way I hoped.

I read it as an invitation to pay attention.

Because I’ve learned that God’s goodness is often hiding in places I never thought to look—in surrendered prayers, faithful friendships, quiet mornings with Him, and the slow, steady work of healing a heart that once believed peace depended on someone else’s choices.

Like David, I remain confident of this:

I will see the goodness of the Lord.

Not only someday.

Not only in heaven.

But here.

In the land of the living. 

Jennifer Shook

Jennifer is an Inner Healing Mentor, Christian Life Coach, and Speaker who helps women navigate the deep pain of addiction, betrayal, and family crises. She walks alongside those who feel isolated in their struggles—women who love God but feel unseen, shamed, or unable to be real in their church communities. Through inner healing prayer, mentorship, and authentic conversations, Jennifer creates a safe space where women can process their grief, release control, and rediscover their true identity in Christ. Her mission is to break the silence around struggles the church often avoids while guiding women to break free from religious expectations, striving, and performance—leading them toward true healing, freedom, and restoration.