535_The weakness of man and the strength of God

Psalm 102:1-7 Hear my prayer, O Lord;
let my cry come to you!
2 Do not hide your face from me
in the day of my distress!
Incline your ear to me;
answer me speedily in the day when I call!

3 For my days pass away like smoke,
and my bones burn like a furnace.
4 My heart is struck down like grass and has withered;
I forget to eat my bread.
5 Because of my loud groaning
my bones cling to my flesh.
6 I am like a desert owl of the wilderness,
like an owl of the waste places;
7 I lie awake;
I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.

Vs. 25-28 Of old you laid the foundation of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
26 They will perish, but you will remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away,
27 but you are the same, and your years have no end.
28 The children of your servants shall dwell secure;
their offspring shall be established before you.

Some years ago, a pastor recounted visiting a dear member of his congregation in the hospital. She had been battling cancer for a long time. Her body had grown frail, her strength nearly gone. Yet, as he sat beside her, instead of words of despair, she smiled faintly and whispered, “Pastor, I am weak, but He is strong. I cannot even lift my hands, but I know the Lord is carrying me.” Those words stayed with him far longer than the details of her illness. They were a testimony that even in our most fragile moments, God upholds His children.

Psalm 102 is a testimony much like this. It poured from the heart of someone who had come to the end of himself. The superscription describes it as “A prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed and pours out his complaint before the LORD.” Far from having life figured out, the psalmist felt abandoned, attacked, and forgotten. But then he discovered once again that the eternal God is strong when man is weak, and he sustains His people.

The opening is a plea of desperation: “Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry come to you!” (v.1). The psalmist cries out, asking God not to turn away from him in his day of distress. For he has nowhere else to turn.

He paints a vivid picture of his suffering in verses 3 to 7. His days vanish like smoke, his bones burn like fire, his heart withers like grass, and he forgets to eat his bread. He feels like a lone sparrow on a housetop. Sparrows are small and insignificant, but they usually live in flocks. A solitary sparrow perched on a rooftop is the picture of vulnerability and sadness. Such moments occur when we feel disconnected, unseen, in the rush of life.

In verse 8 he laments: “All the day my enemies taunt me; those who deride me use my name for a curse.” Cruel ridicule and rejection make his burden heavier. It feels as though even God has turned against him: “For you have taken me up and thrown me down” (v.10)—like a child’s toy tossed aside. His life feels fleeting, withering away like grass.

But the psalmist moves beyond this state of physical frailty, emotional loneliness, and spiritual despair. He lifts his eyes upward. “But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever; you are remembered throughout all generations.” That small word “but” changes everything. It is the hinge on which despair swings open to hope. For God is great, he is steadfast in his love, and he is sovereign in his power.

Therefore, he declares, in verse 13: “You will arise and have pity on Zion; it is the time to favor her; the appointed time has come.” He looks beyond his own distress to the greater purposes of God. Zion—the dwelling place of God—will not be abandoned. God will build it up again, He will appear in His glory, He will hear the prayer of the destitute. In his forlorn condition, the psalmist proclaims by faith that God does not despise the prayer of the brokenhearted.

And God’s goodness to Zion is not only for that moment but for generations to come. Verse 18 says, “Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise the LORD.” Set against the backdrop of God’s eternal purposes, his weakness serves only to set off God’s magnificent faithfulness as a sign to those not even born yet.

Toward the end of the psalm, the psalmist again acknowledges his weakness: “He has broken my strength in midcourse; he has shortened my days” (v.23). And yet he no longer despairs. For he remembers that God laid the foundations of the earth and created the heavens. They appear immovable, unchanging, eternal. Yet they are short-lived to God. They will one day wear out like an old garment. Even then, our God remains the same, and His years will never end.

Hebrews takes up this central theme again, referring it to God’s Son, Jesus Christ: “You, Lord, laid the foundation of the earth in the beginning, and the heavens are the work of your hands; they will perish, but you remain… but you are the same, and your years will have no end” (Hebrews 1:10-12). For in Christ, who upholds all things by the word of His power, the eternal strength of God is fully expressed.

The psalm concludes with confidence: “The children of your servants shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you” (v.28). The psalmist’s personal troubles may not have disappeared, but his perspective has changed. He now sees that the eternal God guarantees security for His people. His weakness remains, but God’s strength overshadows it.

This psalm paints a vivid picture of human frailty and divine strength. Our lives are short, fragile, and uncertain. The greatest of us is no more than a wisp of smoke compared to the eternal God. But that truth does not leave us in despair. For Isaiah 40:29 declares: “He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.”

The Lord reassured Paul of this in his sore trial: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). And so Paul rejoiced in his weakness thereafter, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.” Paul discovered that the very place of human limitation becomes the stage for God’s power to be displayed.

It is time, therefore, for us to stop pretending that we are strong enough on our own. Let us bring our frailty, our loneliness, our overwhelming sadness and trouble, before God, just as the psalmist did. Let us look beyond ourselves and our circumstances, to the God who sits enthroned in might and love forever.

Like the sparrow on the rooftop, we may feel alone, unnoticed, weary. The taunts of enemies, the weight of illness, or the silence of heaven may leave us in despair. But God hears the prayer of the poor in heart, and does not despise their prayer. His strength is enough to carry us through, more than conquerors, because he loves us despite our weakness, and in our weakness.

Let us lean on Him at all times. Let us join Paul in saying, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion on the day of Christ Jesus. For the eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.