436_Satisfied in God

Psalm 4 Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!
You have given me relief when I was in distress.
Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!

2 O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame?
How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? Selah
3 But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself;
the Lord hears when I call to him.

4 Be angry, and do not sin;
ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Selah
5 Offer right sacrifices,
and put your trust in the Lord.

6 There are many who say, “Who will show us some good?
Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!”
7 You have put more joy in my heart
than they have when their grain and wine abound.

8 In peace I will both lie down and sleep;
for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

What does it mean to be truly satisfied? Most people think it lies in the right circumstances—good health, financial security, harmonious relationships, or success in career or ministry. When something shifts—unmet expectations, sudden chaos, or pain—peace evaporates, and frustration sets in.

There was once a painting competition for children based on the theme, “The Beauty of Serenity.” Most children portrayed images of stillness and beauty—a still lake at sunset, a great forest, a garden blooming with flowers, a mother with her sleeping baby in her arms. One drawing stood out. It depicted a sea tossed violently by storm, waves crashing against the jagged cliffs. Nestled in a cleft of the rock, shielded from wind and waves, was a nest on which sat a tiny bird, looking out at the stormy sea and sky and singing. True serenity isn’t never having storms, but experiencing security amidst chaos. It is the joy that sings in the dark. It is the life of the soul satisfied not by the external, but in God who shelters and shields.

This is the heart of Psalm 4. David, the man after God’s own heart, finds himself surrounded by trouble. His son Absalom seized the throne, and slept with his father’s wives in a tent pitched in public view, signaling his complete breach with his father. In this, he was following the strategy of Ahithophel, once David’s trusted counselor. Abandoned by friends and allies, David was fleeing Jerusalem, crossing the Jordan, into the wilderness. And still he had to protect and provide for the loyal band who refused to leave him.

Yet, instead of a heart overwhelmed by fear and broken by betrayal, the prayer reveals quiet confidence and trustful strength. “Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!” His first response is not panic, but prayer—anchored in who God is and what he has done. He is “the God of my righteousness,” the vindicator. David’s memory brings up the unfailing salvation of God, right from delivering David as a boy from the lion and the bear while looking after his flock of sheep, to his fight against Goliath the giant, or when he fled for his life from Saul, when his people were captured in Ziklag – and yet he recovered everything.

Memories like these are not nostalgia—they are weapons of faith. They are important in troubled times, when it would be easy to forget God’s faithfulness. David knows better. He chooses to remember. In Psalm 103, he tells his soul, “Forget not all His benefits.” he prays—not to remind God, but to remind himself of the God who hears. “O you who hear prayer,” says Psalm 65:2, “to you shall all flesh come.” God was faithful and He remains faithful again. We can flee nowhere, in our freedom, except to God.

David then looks outward: “O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?” He was the Lord’s anointed. He had honored Saul and spared his life repeatedly despite Saul’s enmity. Yet the rebels now treated him with contempt, an offense against God’s sovereign power.

David says with unbroken faith. “But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for Himself; the Lord hears when I call to Him.” As God’s appointed king, he was sure of God’s response when he called for help.

But what follows is perhaps even more telling. David, hearing the reports of Absalom’s shameful actions, does not respond with rash judgment or fury. Instead, he turns inward. “Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent.” He doesn’t suppress his anger—he acknowledges it. But he is on guard lest his anger turn to sin. Righteous anger is not roused by ingratitude or contempt towards himself. It is from zeal for God’s glory. The Lord cleared out the temple in his zeal. Phinehas struck the rebellious Israelite and his woman, moved by jealousy for God’s holiness. Yet Moses spoke in anger and forfeited the Promised Land. When human anger is unchecked, it misrepresents God and misguides people. Let us not stew in bitterness, but surrender it to God.

He then says, “Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord.” Even when wronged, let us do what is right, remembering God. Pain, betrayal, or fear must not determine our choices. Trusting God means choosing integrity when compromise feels safer. It means offering God our praise, our obedience, our trust even in the greatest danger and difficulty.

He goes on to say, “There are many who say, ‘Who will show us some good?’” Some of God’s people despair when his face is hidden. Yet David knows his trust is well-placed. All he asks is, “Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!” He does not want his circumstances to be changed, but for God to look on him. When God’s face shines on us, darkness is overcome. Peace has come.

And finally, a striking statement: “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.” Absalom is feasting in the palace, applauded and successful. Many others rejoice in their rich harvests of oil and wine and grain. Yet, sleeping on the hard ground in the wilderness, David rejoices in God far more than Absalom in his ill-gotten gain, or farmers in their bumper crop.

His joy did not depend on riches and plenty, wealth and approval. It was from knowing God. It was the joy that wells up when all else is stripped away and only God remains—and we find that He is enough.

David concludes, “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” His security came, not from armies or fortresses, or strategic alliances. All he had was God’s favor, and that was his peace and guarantee of safety. He enjoyed the peace that is beyond understanding, not dictated by the absence of dangers but grounded in the Almighty. Psalm 121 reminds us, “He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” While David sleeps, God watches.

In the middle of betrayal, when we’re wronged, betrayed, or anxious about the future, let us trust in God. Let us recall his faithfulness in the past. Let us be honest with God, pouring out our souls to him without having to control the situation or retaliate. Let us offer Him the sacrifice of righteousness, doing what is right as we worship him. Our hearts will long, not just to fix our situation, but to see the light of his face shining upon us.

For this is something this world cannot offer. A satisfaction the world cannot take away. Like that bird in the cleft of the rock, we’ll sing—not because the storm has passed, but because we are sheltered in the One who never fails. We are satisfied in God.