437_A heartfelt prayer Psalm 5 Give ear to my words, O Lord; consider my groaning. 2 Give attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my God, for to you do I pray. 3 O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch. 4 For you are not a God who delights in wickedness; evil may not dwell with you. 5 The boastful shall not stand before your eyes; you hate all evildoers. 6 You destroy those who speak lies; the Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful man. 7 But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love, will enter your house. I will bow down toward your holy temple in the fear of you. 8 Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness because of my enemies; make your way straight before me. 9 For there is no truth in their mouth; their inmost self is destruction; their throat is an open grave; they flatter with their tongue. 10 Make them bear their guilt, O God; let them fall by their own counsels; because of the abundance of their transgressions cast them out, for they have rebelled against you. 11 But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you. 12 For you bless the righteous, O Lord; you cover him with favor as with a shield. When we pour out our hearts to God in honesty and trust, our words and our groans express the attitude of the heart accurately. Thus, Psalm 5 invites us into the deeply personal world of prayer. The psalm expresses groans and sighs more than polished phrases. David pleads, “Give ear to my words, O Lord, consider my groaning.” He does not try to impress God. He is not performing a religious ritual or reciting a prayer. He is simply pouring out his heart, threatened, weary, and desperate. When we suffer betrayal, slander, criticism, or physical danger, we hit back by instinct. We try to defend ourselves if possible, and strike back. But David’s response is that of a godly man. He brings his pain to the Lord. He does not let the deep hurt control him. As he bows, weeping, before God, he knows that even his tears are understood by God. As Romans 8:26 reminds us, “The Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” David’s relationship with God is not that of a superstitious adherent of a distant or abstract deity but as the servant of “my King and my God.” David, king of Israel, understood that his authority was delegated. He ruled only by God’s appointment and for God’s glory. His position was not one of entitlement but of dependence. He says, “O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch.” His first waking thought was of God, but with great reverence and love. He did not come empty-handed before his King

438_A prayer drenched in tears Psalm 6 O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath. 2 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled. 3 My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O Lord—how long? 4 Turn, O Lord, deliver my life; save me for the sake of your steadfast love. 5 For in death there is no remembrance of you; in Sheol who will give you praise? 6 I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. 7 My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes. 8 Depart from me, all you workers of evil, for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping. 9 The Lord has heard my plea; the Lord accepts my prayer. 10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled; they shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment. In the biography of Leonard RavenhillI, Light of Eternity, it is recounted how he used to pass by the Salvation Army building in a poor cotton town in England. This was one of the largest of its kind outside London. At the front stood two large stones. One bore the inscription: “William Booth of the Salvation Army opened this corps, 1910.” The other stone read: “Kate and Mary Jackson, officers in this corps.” Kate and Mary Jackson were two young women sent to serve in that poverty-stricken place. They worked with all their strength. They did everything they had been trained to do. They organized meetings, taught, evangelized, and served the poor. But nothing changed. They could see no fruit. After a couple of years of exhausting effort, they were discouraged and desperate. They wrote to General William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, asking to be transferred to another place. Back came a telegram: “Try tears.” Kate and Mary didn’t just pray—they travailed. They wept. They poured out their souls in anguish and desperation. And the broken town stirred at last, not because of new strategies or better sermons, but because God answered the prayer of the broken heart. This is the essence of Psalm 6. It is not a neat, composed prayer. It is not polished or formal. It is drenched in tears. Psalm 6 is the first of what we call the penitential psalms, that includes also Psalms 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, and 143. It opens with a trembling cry: “O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath.” Here is David, the man after God’s own heart, burdened with guilt, fear, and anguish. Both his body and his soul are in torment. “Be gracious to me, O Lord,” he pleads, “for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.” And then he adds: “My soul also is greatly troubled. But you, O Lord—how long?” In that place where the pain runs so deep it feels like your very

439_Responding to slander and lies Psalm 7 O Lord my God, in you do I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers and deliver me, 2 lest like a lion they tear my soul apart, rending it in pieces, with none to deliver. 3 O Lord my God, if I have done this, if there is wrong in my hands, 4 if I have repaid my friend with evil or plundered my enemy without cause, 5 let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it, and let him trample my life to the ground and lay my glory in the dust. Selah 6 Arise, O Lord, in your anger; lift yourself up against the fury of my enemies; awake for me; you have appointed a judgment. 7 Let the assembly of the peoples be gathered about you; over it return on high. 8 The Lord judges the peoples; judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness and according to the integrity that is in me. 9 Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end, and may you establish the righteous— you who test the minds and hearts, O righteous God! 10 My shield is with God, who saves the upright in heart. 11 God is a righteous judge, and a God who feels indignation every day. 12 If a man does not repent, God will whet his sword; he has bent and readied his bow; 13 he has prepared for him his deadly weapons, making his arrows fiery shafts. 14 Behold, the wicked man conceives evil and is pregnant with mischief and gives birth to lies. 15 He makes a pit, digging it out, and falls into the hole that he has made. 16 His mischief returns upon his own head, and on his own skull his violence descends. 17 I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High. A man once visited his rabbi, burdened by the guilt of having spread a false rumor about someone in his community. He wanted to know how he could make things right. The rabbi handed him a feather pillow and asked him to cut it open and shake its contents out the window. The man did as he was told, and feathers flew in every direction. “Now,” said the rabbi, “go and gather every feather.” The man looked at him in shock. “That’s impossible!” he replied. The rabbi nodded and said, “Exactly. Words, once spoken are like those feathers. You can’t get them all back.” Proverbs 18:21 tells us, “The tongue has the power of life and death.” Words can breathe encouragement and hope, but they can also crush spirits and destroy lives. Slander is a weapon that leaves deep wounds. It can shred a person’s reputation and destroy trust. These wounds are invisible, but they pierce the soul. David, the man after God’s own heart, describes this pain in Psalm 7. It is his cry to God when he is falsely accused by a man named Cush from the tribe

440_Man created for God’s glory Psalm 8 O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. 2 Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger. 3 When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, 4 what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? 5 Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. 6 You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet, 7 all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, 8 the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas. 9 O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! Years ago, a well-known astronomer lectured publicly on the universe. He spoke about galaxies billions of light-years away, of stars thousands of times larger than our sun, of nebulae that glowed with colors we would never see with the naked eye. After the lecture, a small boy approached him timidly and asked, “Sir, if the universe is so big and we are so small, do we really matter at all?” The astronomer had no answer. But Psalm 8 does. David, the shepherd-king of Israel, asked the same question centuries earlier as he looked up into the night sky. His heart was overwhelmed with of all he saw. But he also realized that God, the Maker of so much beauty and grandeur, cares about man. It is an astonishing truth. God knows each of us, not in general but personally and thoroughly. This is not because of our greatness - but because God is great. Psalm 8 opens and closes with the same majestic refrain: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” David begins with an upward look rather than looking inward at himself. His gaze is filled with God. He calls him “Yahweh,” by the name God revealed to Moses at the burning bush, the name by which God made a covenant with his people Israel. He also calls him “Adonai,” meaning Master or Sovereign. He is the God who exists of himself, uncreated, sovereign, the God and King of Israel and of all the earth. God, eternal and uncreated, wise beyond all measure, immeasurably creative, — the One who made galaxies and atoms, the One whose voice thunders and whispers — makes Himself known to human beings. More than that, He has entered into a covenant with them. And this is of his own free choice. God’s name, expressing His character and His deeds, is recognized as that of the king, unique in all the earth. When God delivered Israel at the Red Sea, they sang, “Who is like you, O Lord,

441_God remembers His people Psalm 9 I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds. 2 I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High. 3 When my enemies turn back, they stumble and perish before your presence. 4 For you have maintained my just cause; you have sat on the throne, giving righteous judgment. 5 You have rebuked the nations; you have made the wicked perish; you have blotted out their name forever and ever. 6 The enemy came to an end in everlasting ruins; their cities you rooted out; the very memory of them has perished. 7 But the Lord sits enthroned forever; he has established his throne for justice, 8 and he judges the world with righteousness; he judges the peoples with uprightness. 9 The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. 10 And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you. 11 Sing praises to the Lord, who sits enthroned in Zion! Tell among the peoples his deeds! 12 For he who avenges blood is mindful of them; he does not forget the cry of the afflicted. Years ago, during the Second World War, a Dutch woman named Corrie ten Boom and her family were arrested by the Nazis for hiding Jews in their home. Her father died soon after. Her beloved older sister died after a year of great suffering in Ravensbrück, the notorious women’s labor camp. There were days of starvation, humiliation, and unspeakable cruelty. In the depths of that darkness, having lost everything, Corrie was sustained by the simple truth: God remembers His people. She would later write, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.” Psalm 9, written by King David, echoes this same deep conviction— in the most desperate situation, facing the strongest enemy, God remembers His people. This song of praise is a bold declaration of faith in a God who sees, who judges rightly, and who never forgets the afflicted. David begins this Psalm not with complaints or fears but with wholehearted praise. “I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” His exuberant and deeply personal words reflect his ingrained awareness that God’s deliverances had been too many to allow doubt or block his full-throated praise. This passionate worship was on display when David danced before the Ark of the Covenant as it entered Jerusalem. During the first attempt, God struck down Uzzah for touching the ark, reminding David of the reverence with which God is to be approached. The second time, he danced for joy, unashamed. Half-hearted worship does not do justice to God’s wholehearted love. He has saved us, preserved us, and shown us mercy. We cannot help but respond with our whole hearts. David says in verse 5, “You have rebuked the nations; you have made the wicked perish; you have blotted

442_God the helper of the fatherless Psalm 10 Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? 2 In arrogance the wicked hotly pursue the poor; let them be caught in the schemes that they have devised. 3 For the wicked boasts of the desires of his soul, and the one greedy for gain curses and renounces the Lord. 4 In the pride of his face the wicked does not seek him; all his thoughts are, “There is no God.” 5 His ways prosper at all times; your judgments are on high, out of his sight; as for all his foes, he puffs at them. 6 He says in his heart, “I shall not be moved; throughout all generations I shall not meet adversity.” 7 His mouth is filled with cursing and deceit and oppression; under his tongue are mischief and iniquity. 8 He sits in ambush in the villages; in hiding places he murders the innocent. His eyes stealthily watch for the helpless; 9 he lurks in ambush like a lion in his thicket; he lurks that he may seize the poor; he seizes the poor when he draws him into his net. 10 The helpless are crushed, sink down, and fall by his might. 11 He says in his heart, “God has forgotten, he has hidden his face, he will never see it.” 12 Arise, O Lord; O God, lift up your hand; forget not the afflicted. 13 Why does the wicked renounce God and say in his heart, “You will not call to account”? 14 But you do see, for you note mischief and vexation, that you may take it into your hands; to you the helpless commits himself; you have been the helper of the fatherless. 15 Break the arm of the wicked and evildoer; call his wickedness to account till you find none. 16 The Lord is king forever and ever; the nations perish from his land. 17 O Lord, you hear the desire of the afflicted; you will strengthen their heart; you will incline your ear 18 to do justice to the fatherless and the oppressed, so that man who is of the earth may strike terror no more. A few years ago, a little boy named Sam stood in the hallway of a crowded courtroom in a foster care building, clutching a worn-out teddy bear. He was just six years old. He had been abused, neglected, and abandoned. That day, a decision was to be made—would he be sent back to a home that had failed him, or would someone finally intervene on his behalf? A volunteer advocate, a kind woman in her late fifties, bent down and said to him, “Don’t worry, Sam. I’m here to speak up for you.” For the first time in a long while, he felt some hope. Later that day, the judge gave him into the care of a foster family that had been waiting to welcome him. As they walked out together, the advocate said something Sam never forgot: “Even when it feels like no one sees, God

443_God’s righteousness is a refuge to the righteous Psalm 11 In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to my soul, “Flee like a bird to your mountain, 2 for behold, the wicked bend the bow; they have fitted their arrow to the string to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart; 3 if the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?” 4 The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord's throne is in heaven; his eyes see, his eyelids test the children of man. 5 The Lord tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence. 6 Let him rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup. 7 For the Lord is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face. In 2011, a tsunami hit Japan. One of the videos that went viral showed a man standing on the rooftop of a sturdy building. Waves crashed around him, and debris swept through entire neighborhoods. While screams of panic rent the air, he stood calm, just because the structure beneath his feet held firm. That’s what Psalm 11 is all about. When social and moral order seems to be collapsing, chaos all around, and evil seems to be winning, the righteous stand strong because they have a firm foundation. The psalm begins with confidence. “In the Lord I take refuge,” he says, and asks his unnamed adviser why he should flee “like a bird to its mountain.” David’s friend warns, “The wicked have bent their bows. The foundations are being destroyed. What can the righteous do?” When laws are ignored, when violence is applauded, when standing for truth brings mockery and hardship, what can the righteous possibly do but run? But David’s answer is simple. “The Lord is in His holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven.” God’s throne stands firm, on its foundation of righteousness and justice. He is still sovereign over the world he made. David doesn’t deny the danger. He acknowledges the wicked are aiming in the dark, seeking to destroy. But his eyes are lifted higher, to the throne of God. Despite the turmoil below, God is still in control. This is the root of hope. David reminds us that “His eyes see, His eyelids test the children of man.” These words remind us that God is not a distant observer. He is carefully observing and discerning what goes on in the hearts of all people. Far from being a passive gaze, the divine examination has a purpose. Verse 5 is key: “The Lord tests the righteous.” Throughout Scripture, we see God testing those He loves — not to punish or destroy them, but to strengthen them. In Zechariah 13:9, we read, “I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them. I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God.’” The end of testing is deep-seated and steadfast trust

444_Man’s words vs God’s words Psalm 12 Save, O Lord, for the godly one is gone; for the faithful have vanished from among the children of man. 2 Everyone utters lies to his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak. 3 May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that makes great boasts, 4 those who say, “With our tongue we will prevail, our lips are with us; who is master over us?” 5 “Because the poor are plundered, because the needy groan, I will now arise,” says the Lord; “I will place him in the safety for which he longs.” 6 The words of the Lord are pure words, like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times. 7 You, O Lord, will keep them; you will guard us from this generation forever. 8 On every side the wicked prowl, as vileness is exalted among the children of man. In the early 1940s, World War II was crushing Europe. A young German pastor named Dietrich Bonhoeffer stood before his small underground congregation. The Nazi propaganda machine was in full force, filling the airwaves with lies, half-truths, and a twisted version of morality that exalted power, crushed dissent, and redefined evil as good. In the face of that cultural pressure, despite the danger, Bonhoeffer boldly declared, “The Word of God is a sword, and it cuts through every lie.” Psalm 12 reflects not just David’s world, but that of today. Truth is scarce, flattery is a currency, and words are crafted to conceal, deceive, manipulate, and dominate, rather than to bless or heal. In such a world, God’s Word remains the only trustworthy anchor. The psalm begins with a cry of desperation: “Save, O Lord, for the godly one is gone; for the faithful have vanished from among the children of man.” Evil seems so widespread, so unchecked, that it feels like there’s no one left to stand for what is right. Yet there are always those, like the 7,000 in Elijah’s day, who haven’t bowed their knees to Baal—but they are in hiding. As Proverbs 28:28 puts it, “When the wicked rise, people hide themselves.” In this atmosphere, truth-speaking seems to be almost extinct. “Everyone utters lies to his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak.” These aren’t meant to politely pass over unpleasant realities or make the other person feel better when faced with embarrassment. These are calculated distortions and carefully planned flatteries. They arise from a double heart that says nice things to one’s face but conceals cruel and destructive motives. Whether in politics, media, business, or religious circles, words are denied their only true function, of being vessels of truth. They are used as weapons to influence and oppress others. Sound bites and spin are more powerful than facts. Image trumps substance. “With our tongue we will prevail,” they say. “Our lips are with us; who is master over us?” These words reflect arrogant independence, a belief that the speaker reshapes reality with clever speech and persuasive rhetoric. The tongue becomes an idol. But the

445_God’s delays are not his absence Psalm 13 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? 2 How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? 3 Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, 4 lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. 5 But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. 6 I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. A young girl planted a seed in a small pot on her windowsill. Each day, she watered the soil and sat by the pot, watching, waiting, expecting. When nothing happened even after a week, she grew restless. Two weeks in, still nothing. She tapped the soil, poked at it gently, and even tried moving the pot to different windows to catch better sunlight. Finally, she gave up. But her grandmother quietly continued to water it. A week later, a tiny green sprout appeared. The seed was never dead—it was just working in silence. Waiting for deliverance can be frustrating, sometimes agonizing. Especially when you feel forgotten. Especially when there is no answer, though you pray persistently, and trust God with your deepest desires. Yet heaven remains silent. Psalm 13 voices this cry. Four times in just two verses, David asks, “How long, O Lord?” The question breathes his feeling of abandonment. Like many of us, when God delays, David starts to wonder: Has God forgotten me? When we are overcome by our foes, we assume God isn’t listening. We confuse His silence for indifference and His delays for rejection. But Scripture repeatedly shows us that God’s delays are not His denials. Often, they are the sign of his deep, loving work in our lives, hidden beneath the surface, preparing us for something greater than we imagined. Jacob’s favorite son Joseph was sent dreams that prophesied his future greatness. He was favored with intelligence, charm, and administrative capacity. He was honest, diligent and obedient. Yet he was betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused, and unjustly imprisoned. For years, his life seemed to spiral further away from God’s promises. Once, it looked like a break might come. He rightly interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker, and the cupbearer was restored to Pharaoh’s favor. But he forgot to intercede for Joseph’s release. Hope turned into disappointment. Two more years passed in that prison. From a human perspective, those years seem to be a waste, a cruel delay. Yet God had his great purposes. If released earlier, Joseph might have gone home to resume his life as a shepherd. But he was destined to save his clan, God’s chosen people, from extinction. During the years in Egypt, including his time in prison, Joseph learned the management of a large semi-royal household, the culture of the palace, the

446_Consequences of rejecting God Psalm 14 The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is none who does good. 2 The Lord looks down from heaven on the children of man, to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God. 3 They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one. 4 Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers who eat up my people as they eat bread and do not call upon the Lord? 5 There they are in great terror, for God is with the generation of the righteous. 6 You would shame the plans of the poor, but the Lord is his refuge. 7 Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion! When the Lord restores the fortunes of his people, let Jacob rejoice, let Israel be glad. A man on a hiking trip with his friends stood for a moment, gazing at the starlit sky. He murmured, almost without meaning to himself, “Do you really think all of this just happened by chance?” His question lingered in the cold air like smoke from a dying fire. What followed wasn’t a debate but a deep and honest conversation. What if God is real? And if He is, how should that change our lives? Such conversations have echoed in every generation. But Scripture declares a sobering truth. This is the jarring line with which Psalm 14 begins. “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” David does not speak here of philosophical atheism, but something far deeper and more dangerous: the practical rejection of God’s presence and authority in our inner lives. There's a difference between questioning God's existence and rejecting Him in our hearts. A questioning heart may still be seeking truth, but a rejecting heart has turned away. And that rejection doesn't just affect what we think; it shapes our morality, how we live. It produces moral rottenness, in the form of corruption, injustice, and spiritual blindness. There’s a form of practical atheism that is even more dangerous than theoretical disbelief. If people profess faith in God, take part in religious observances, and pray regularly, yet if their hearts do not revere him and if they do not acknowledge His presence in their everyday choices, they reveal that they are living as though he is absent in this universe. As Alexander Maclaren said, “To strip Him of His justice and rob Him of His control is the part of a fool. For the Biblical conception of folly is moral perversity rather than intellectual feebleness, and whoever is morally and religiously wrong cannot be in reality intellectually right.” To reject God in our hearts is not merely a philosophical error. It is to become spiritually blind and morally adrift. This is why David goes on to write, “They are corrupt; their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good.” Without the fear of God, there is no good in man. All noble actions in human life have their source