Metaphor for Suffering: “Spiritual Vertigo”

Facing chronic pain or illness puts a person and their loved ones face to face with considering who God is and what he is like. We may have intellectually known things about God, and we may even have truly put roots down deep into our union with Christ. But there is something about suffering that forces us to wrestle and refine our theology. We are taken out of the lab and put into the wild, off of the practice field and into the game. I think Job had this partly in mind when he said, “I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes.” (Job 42:5) So let’s think and ponder one aspect of God’s character and goodness towards his people when they suffer: his gift of a “vocabulary” for us to resonate with in Scripture.

He is kind enough to give us words that describe what we’re going through. For instance, read Psalm 73, one of the lament psalms. It is written by Asaph, who was the choir director in the tabernacle, tasked with leading at least the musical component of worship. It is likely safe to call him a spiritual giant. He wrote other psalms as well (e.g., Pss. 78 and 81), psalms that were filled with praise for God’s wonderful deeds. But Psalm 73 strikes a different chord on the emotional spectrum. Tim Keller describles Asaph’s experience as “spiritual vertigo.” I’ve never had vertigo before, but I have heard from those who have that it is an awful experience. As the crystals in your ears fall out of their normal alignment, the world swims before you in nauseating fashion. Up is down, down is up. You feel like you have no bearings. It’s like trying to run on a treadmill while looking up at the ceiling. Asaph has this experience figuratively applied to his life. What he knew in his heart of God (his goodness, wisdom, and strength) did not seem to match up with what he saw all around him (the wicked prospering) and within him (hardship in his own life). What his eyes were taking in did not cohere with what he believed to be true about God’s character, and it was tearing him apart. “For I envied the proud when I saw them prosper despite their wickedness. They seem to live such painless lives; their bodies are so healthy and strong.” (Ps. 73:3-4) Asaph was in a metaphorical hall of mirrors; what was really real? Another way to say this (more formulaic in nature) is: presence of pain + lack of relief over time = spiritual disorientation.

Certainly Psalm 73 isn’t in the Bible to tell us that our painful situation will go away. The situation external to Asaph did not appear to change. There is much we could say about how Asaph responded in godly ways (ways that were spiritually stabilizing), but for the sake of this post, we will focus on what inclusion of this psalm in the Bible says about God. God did not have to insert this psalm in Scripture. In many respects, it is not a happy psalm. But he did put it in Scripture, and he did so (in part) in order that we would have words to put to our own experiences of spiritual vertigo. If a giant in the faith like Asaph can experience such misery, talk to God about his raw feelings, and then talk to his feelings about God, then so can we. If we ever are prone to wonder if there’s legitimacy to the Christian life at times feeling confusing, turbulent, and like war, Psalm 73 validates that this category is not merely understandable; it is normal and to be expected. Through Psalm 73, God gives us a paradigm and a vocabulary to borrow from.

By the way, notice something. When Asaph voiced his words of grief, anger, and confusion, who was he talking to? He was talking to God. “Then I realized that my heart was bitter, and I was all torn up inside. I was so foolish and ignorant—I must have seemed like a senseless animal to you. Yet I still belong to you; you mold my right hand.” (Ps. 73:21-23) Don’t miss this: he was talking to God. This is no mere Sunday School answer. He was talking to God. The same can be said for many other writers of the Psalms; the same can be said for Job; the same can be said for Jesus in the garden the night before his death and while he was on the cross. They were not crying out to the wind. They took their pain, their grief, their confusion, and their doubts to God. And there is never any sign that God was displeased with them for doing so. Asaph was not perfect, but he got one thing very right: he went to God. When we are squeezed and pressed in the furnace of affliction, what comes out of us in those moments is not anything scripted, but rather what is most natural and dear to us. Asaph’s response was to run to his God. His words were not words of mutinous rebellion or high-handed defiance. “God, this hurts” or “God, I don’t understand” is different than “God, I hate you.” So, when you experience the disorientation of spiritual vertigo, allow the example of Asaph to be your teacher, and talk to God.

This post is the third in a series deriving from the “Chronic Pain & Illness” seminar that took place at Rocky Creek in September 2025. If you’d like to receive the PDF note packet and audio version of that seminar, you may email allen@rockycreek.church.