Jeff Lark

  God, as I read the words of this psalm and as I listen to this song, I can’t help but think again of our brothers and sisters in Ukraine. I can’t imagine the trauma that they face daily. I can’t imagine the fear. I can’t imagine the tears and the despair as they face the destruction of all they’ve known - buildings destroyed, cars burned, children kidnapped, women raped, lives taken. So, I pray Psalm 46 for and with them. God, as their mountains crumble and their waters foam and as their earth gives way, be their refuge; be present as their help; be their strength (v. 1-3). God, remind the Ukrainian believers that you are seated on your throne and that while Putin rages, the earth can and will melt with a simple utterance of your voice (v. 6). God, just say the word. God, destroy the destroyer. You are the one who makes wars cease - you break the bow, and you burn the chariots (or tanks) with fire (v. 8-9). I pray that in their turmoil, you will still the hearts of the Ukrainians -

  God, as I meditate on this psalm and pick up my pen to write, I don't feel like the author of this psalm feels. His heart was overflowing with joy, and his tongue was like a scribe's pen ready to write (v. 1). Why? Because this is a wedding psalm. It's a time for celebration, speeches, dancing, love, and emotions. Who doesn't love a good wedding? But God, my heart isn't there this morning. Instead of playing a major key, my heart is playing in a minor key. I'm still grieving the loss of my mom from 3 weeks ago. I still feel a heaviness, and I still feel tired. So, as I still have the vivid picture in my mind of my dad holding my mom for the last time after holding her for 61 years of marriage, it's hard for me to enter into the joy of new love, life, and celebration. But Jesus, I thank you that there is hope in this psalm, even for the weary. Ultimately, Jesus, this psalm is about you. You are the King. You are the bridegroom. You are the one whose garmen

  (Written on March 6, 2023) God, what a week it has been. I arrived at my parent's house one week ago because my mom's health was weakening. We started getting word that she maybe had a few weeks. Those few weeks turned into only a few days. God, as I grieve, this psalm hits all too close to home. When I arrived Monday evening, my mom was literally "being given over to death all day long" and "was covered with the shadow of death" (v. 19). Her breathing was labored. She wasn't eating. And she was frail. God, the last hour was brutal. Trying to get her ready for bed that evening, any strength that she had kept giving out. My dad and I struggled as she fell to the floor multiple times. Life was leaving her, and her body was literally "clinging to the ground," and her "soul was bowed down to the dust" (v. 25). Her breaths slowed, and then the struggling stilled. I sat on the floor, holding her on my lap as I faced the painful reality t

  (Because of the repeated refrains and the lack of heading in Psalm 43, I agree with many commentators, that these two psalms were originally one psalm. Therefore, my prayer will be for both psalms). God, it is obvious that the author of Psalms 42 and 43 is in great distress. The agony of his soul is on full display with words like mourning, turmoil, fears, and cast down. In his despair, he even has to plead with his soul to find hope in God (42:5, 11, 43: 5). God, many of us have been there - the discouragement, the mourning, the anguish, the tears. We can relate. But what I can’t relate to is why he feels all of this. These two psalms paint a picture of a man who finds himself removed from the place of worship. And his longing for you leads to the question, “When shall I come and appear before God?” 42:2). And, in 43:3-4, he finds hope that he will once again find joy in being in your presence. God, the sad reality is that I could often go through my days or weeks and be content wi

  God, this psalm concludes book 1 of the Psalter. And, even though we will have other Davidic Psalms scattered throughout the rest of the book, this psalm seems to be intentionally placed here as a conclusion to David's life. God, his life has been one marked by struggle. And this psalm appears to be a deathbed psalm. As David is on his bed sick, struggling for life, the struggle of his life continues. Even in his weakest moment, his enemies (even his friends - v. 9) turn against him. God, David can't catch a break, even on his deathbed. And God, this is what makes David a man after your own heart. Again and again, his life has so paralleled your son's suffering. Because of this, I would say that in David's suffering, he knew Jesus better before his earthly existence than I do after his life, death, and resurrection. I know about him, but David truly knew him, walking the same path a thousand years before his savior would ever be born. And now, even in his death, the

  God, sometimes it feels like your hand is too heavy upon us. David surely knew what this felt like. It took everything in him to hold his tongue in the presence of his enemies so he wouldn't give them another opportunity to mock him and you. And while he remained silent, his frustration and anger toward you reached a boiling point (v. 3). Then, it all came out. As it came out, he fumed, "God, you have stripped me of everything, and I have been brought to the point where I see my life as but a breath. I have no more strength in and of myself. My life is but a shadow that quickly disappears. I know I only have you. I have learned my lesson - so would you let up a bit? I've had all that I can take. Turn away from me so that I can again find happiness" (v. 10-13). God, it's a bold prayer. Throughout David's prayers so far, he wanted to see your face. Your face meant your pleasure. But now, like a child who can't look his parents in the eye after they catch

  God, I hate the feeling. I’ve been there too many times to count. The pain. The shame. The despair. The discouragement. The anguish. The Anger. And God, it’s good that I’m not alone. As David is feeling the weight of his sin, he says in v. 8, “I am feeble (numb with pain) and crushed (broken), I groan because of the tumult of my heart.” The word “tumult” is only used in one other place in the Hebrew Scriptures. Isaiah 5:30 uses it in reference to the churning of waves. God, David’s heart was like a tumultuous sea. Sin and its devastating effects had so ravaged his heart, as Isaiah says, like a prowling lion. God, I don’t like to feel this. And so, I try to deny or dismiss my sin. I hide behind self-righteousness. I lie to myself and others. Teresa of Avila said, “We need to sit amongst our weeds.” God, I don’t like seeing my weeds, much less sitting in them. But God, you were taking David, and you’re taking me on a journey. As Dallas Willard says, you are taking us “on a journey to

  Waiting, fretting, and the struggle of faith God, I certainly am a product of our microwave culture. 5G is better than LTE, and why would I not select the fastest route when Apple Maps gives me three options? Some cultures seem to be not as concerned with fast and efficient. Spending a week in Chad (Africa) opened my eyes to the reality that time in their culture is calculated differently. Relationships defined time, not the watch (this was excruciatingly hard for me to learn). People lingered. They talked. They laughed. And in my anxious mind, they were late for the next thing. God, in Psalm 37, David seems to be saying that you are a lot more like my friends from Chad than a suburban American. And because you don’t operate on my timetable, my anxious mind thinks you are often late. God, three times this psalm calls me to wait (v. 7, 8, 34). Two different Hebrew words are used, but both include an element of pain. One comes from the pain of stretching and straining. The other word

Fear and Hate God, these are two words that, growing up, I wasn’t allowed to feel and experience. In fact, “hate” was essentially a bad word. And as a boy (and even now as a grown man), fear was seen as a weakness. But God, these are two words that make up wisdom. And they are two words that have been absent for far too long in my Christian experience. I have often been confounded by what it means to “fear the Lord.” As a New Testament believer who believes in eternal security, I wasn’t discipled to “fear the Lord.” I was taught to love him, serve him, sacrifice for him, pray to him, confess him, and follow him. But, to fear him wasn’t a part of my discipleship. But God, in this psalm as well as in Proverbs 8:13, you give some definition to what it means to fear you. Proverbs 8:13 says, “To fear the Lord is to hate evil.” And, here in Psalm 35:1-2, you say that the wicked have no fear of God before their eyes, but instead flatter themselves to the point that they can’t see and hate

God, in my bubble of relative safety and justice, it is hard to imagine praying this prayer. But, if I imagine myself as a black man only blocks from his mother’s house, pulled over and beaten without cause, I can imagine praying this psalm. I can hear Tyre Nichols, along with David praying verses 15-21. [15] But at my stumbling they rejoiced and gathered; they gathered together against me; wretches whom I did not know tore at me without ceasing; [16] like profane mockers at a feast, they gnash at me with their teeth. [17] How long, O Lord, will you look on? Rescue me from their destruction, my precious life from the lions! [18] I will thank you in the great congregation; in the mighty throng I will praise you. [19] Let not those rejoice over me who are wrongfully my foes, and let not those wink the eye who hate me without cause. [20] For they do not speak peace, but against those who are quiet in the land th

  Psalm 34 is no random assortment of verses.  This is another acrostic psalm. David very intentionally started each successive line with the next letter in the Hebrew alphabet.   So, I’ve attempted to take the heart of each line and write it using the English alphabet. Since there are only 22 Hebrew letters, I did not complete all 26 of the English alphabet. And David’s acrostic wasn’t perfect (the “w” verse was missing, and he replaced the last verse with a “p”), so I decided that it would be ok to skip “Q”. 1 A heart of praise shall continually fill my mouth, 2 boasting in him is my soul’s desire; let the humble join in on the praise. 3 Come, let us together make God look good; let us exalt his name together. 4 Deliverance came to me when I sought him; he has delivered me from my greatest fears. 5 Eyes that look to you beam with light; their faces shall never look down in shame. 6 Famished, I cried to you, and you heard me; you saved me out of my troubles. 7 Grace surrounds all th

  Lord, I’m writing this a couple of days after the Presidential State of the Union address. God, during the speech (and every State of the Union speech), half of the floor spends most of the evening on their feet and clapping while the other sits on their hands (or even yells “liar”). Occasionally (and very occasionally), the president says something that causes the whole floor to rise to their feet in applause. But God, no matter the plans and promises, this psalm is a healthy warning that, as you sovereignly look down from heaven (v. 13), and while your plans stand forever, you bring the plans of the nations to nothing (v. 10-11). God, forgive me for times when I’ve put my hope in a president or his promises. Forgive me for being surprised when their plans fail or are thwarted. Forgive me for thinking that our nation is sovereign, forgetting that you are the only true sovereign. God, this psalm realigns my heart to where my only hope is - “Let your steadfast love be upon us, even a

  God, this psalm is so incredibly freeing - and not for the obvious reasons. I do praise you for the forgiveness it pronounces. But, there is more being declared in this psalm - liberating truths that led Paul to use a portion of it in Romans 4. God, this psalm uses words I wouldn't expect from a man who has just greatly sinned. Unlike Psalm 51, we don't know for sure that this psalm was written after his affair and murder. Nonetheless, David uses words that bring surprising clarity where maybe there's been misunderstanding. Up to this point in the Psalter, David has used the word "righteous" about people (v. 11) eight times. He's used the word "upright" (v. 11) three times. And he's used the word "godly" (v. 6) seven times. In each of these times, one could walk away with the impression that David was talking about moral superiority in contrast to the wicked. For example, the pillar psalm of Psalm 1 contrasts the righteous and the wi

  Jesus, there are echoes of your death reverberating throughout this psalm. To a degree, this is your story. In fact, on the cross, you prayed v. 5, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” Just as David said about himself in this psalm, it is stated that you, too, were a man of sorrows acquainted with grief (v. 9, 10). At your crucifixion, you knew the pain and shame of v. 11-13 - an object of dread to your acquaintances; you knew what it felt like to have your friends flee from you; you became a broken vessel; you heard the whispers of those who sought to take your life. Jesus, I have no doubt that David knew you because his life so closely matched yours. His life took on a form that resembled the cross - it was truly cruciform. And Jesus, I think this is what Paul meant when he said that he wanted to know you in the power of your resurrection and the fellowship of your sufferings, becoming like you in your death (Philippians 3:10). Jesus, modern-day American Christianity doesn’t want

  God, as I think about the temptation that captured David’s heart in v. 6, I think of this quote from Tim Keller in his book Jesus the King as he talks about how the center of Christianity throughout history has always been moving: “In the interview with Andrew Walls, he was asked, “Why does this happen? If the centers of other religions remain constant, why does the center of Christianity constantly change?” Walls replied, “One must conclude, I think, that there is a certain vulnerability, a fragility, at the heart of Christianity. You might say that this is the vulnerability of the cross.”50 The heart of the gospel is the cross, and the cross is all about giving up power, pouring out resources, and serving. Walls hinted that when Christianity is in a place of power and wealth for a long period, the radical message of sin and grace and the cross can become muted or even lost. Then Christianity starts to transmute into a nice, safe religion, one that’s for respectable people who try t

  (Written on 2/2/23) God, last night I heard your voice. Like the boy Samuel, I didn’t know it was your voice at the time. But I awoke to thunder and the sounds of my oaks twisting and crashing. Three days of ice had taken its toll, and their limbs gave way under the last round of fury and ice last night. God, I could chalk all of this up to a cold front mixing with moisture from the gulf. It could be explained with physics, determining how much ice our tree limbs could bear. Or, with David, I can hear your voice in the thunder and ice and the cracking of oaks. God, give me ears to hear. And God, it’s only when I can hear your voice in the storm that I can know peace (v. 11). If this were explained scientifically, I would only be able to find peace in wishful thinking or in having the right insurance. But, when I hear your majestic voice, I can worship…I can respond with awe and reverence…and I can be reminded that you are the King over the storms and you are the savior who can

  God, I am not a geologist, and I don’t know much about rocks. But I can do a quick google search and see that there are three types of rocks - sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic. But I have no idea what that means. But there are two things I do know about rocks - they don’t speak, and they don’t listen. But that’s not what David believed. This is the confusing imagery that David uses in v. 1. But God, to be honest, sometimes prayer can feel like I’m speaking to a literal rock. You are silent and come across as not listening. And as a result, there have been many seasons in my life when I return the favor - I stop speaking to you and stop listening. In those times, I read the Bible for information rather than for transformation. It’s in these seasons where ritual and routine take over the relationship. God, thank you for the reminder that you are a rock who speaks and listens. Thank you for being sure, steady, immovable, yet intimate, tender, and responsive to my cries.

  God, playing hide and seek is fun as kids, but not so fun when we feel like we’re the ones who are “it,” and you are the one hiding. David’s one request - the one thing he was seeking (v. 4), the one thing his heart was set on (v. 8), was to dwell in your presence and see your face. In fact, you are the one who asked him seek his face (v. 8)…you were the one who initiated this game of hide and seek. But, in this game of hide and seek, David uses the word “hide” in two different ways. First, he is confident that you will hide him in the shadow of your wings in the day of trouble (v. 3). But, in v. 9, he begs you not to hide your face from him. God, which game of hide and seek are you playing? Will you hide us in the shadow of your wings? Or will you hide your face from us? Will you protect us, or will you leave us cold, exposed, and alone? God, just like David, it can feel like both. There are moments of confident assurance that you’ve got me. But there are other times when y

  Jesus, as with many of the psalms, you again perfectly fulfilled Psalm 26. The language of this psalm reflects the righteous person in Psalm 1. David uses 5 of the exact words as in Psalm 1 - sit, walk, stand, wicked, and sinners. So, this psalm reflects the actions, attitudes, loves, and hates of the righteous. But, Jesus, does it truly reflect you? Verse 4 is where I’m thrown off. Instead of hating the assembly of evildoers and not sitting with the wicked, you ate and drank with them. You were accused of being a drunk (Matthew 11:19) because of your association with sinners. You loved sitting with sinners. You truly loved eating with them and drinking with them. You loved being their friend. Jesus, this is where my self-righteousness rears its ugly head. My “righteousness” often leads me to look down on “sinners.” It leads me to disassociate. It leads me to hide. It leads me to judge. It leads me to condemn.   I don’t think these words are what David had in mind when

  God, what do we do in our shame? How do we navigate uncertain terrain when we don’t know the way? How do we face the day knowing that the guilt of our sin weighs heavy upon us? How do we go through life when our soul is overwhelmed with stress and trouble? God, these are the themes of this psalm and the cry of David’s heart. As David sat to pen this song, I guess he had his coffee that morning. His brain was firing on all cylinders. This is an acrostic psalm, with each verse starting with the following Hebrew letter. And it’s a chiastic psalm with three parallel sections (v. 1-3 parallel v. 11-22; v. 4-5 parallel v. 12-14; and v. 6-7 parallel v. 11). God, it’s in these outer circles of this song where we see all of these themes. Through these outer circles, David leads us straight to the centerpiece - the bullseye of this psalm (v. 8-10). In other words, how do I know God will meet me in my shame and the anguish of my soul? How do I know that he will lead me in the midst o

God, we don’t know for sure the occasion for this psalm, but it certainly could have been when David brought the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem in 2 Samuel 6. During that scene in 2 Samuel 6, the narrative is colored by tragedy as the Ark of God makes its way to Jerusalem. The tragedy is when the Ark begins to topple when the ox stumbles, and Uzzah reaches out his hand, touching the Ark to steady it. And, in touching the Ark, he immediately dies. Three months later, determined to get the Ark to Jerusalem, David tries again. But, knowing that he was moving You, the creator God, and that no unclean hands could touch the Ark (as in Uzzah’s case), and because only those with pure hearts could be in Your presence, they would only take six steps at a time and then stop to sacrifice a bull and a fattened calf (2 Samuel 6:13). God, every six steps a sacrifice was required to stay clean and pure! To be honest, that sounds just about right for my heart. The only reason I might think t

  God, in probably the most popular psalm in all of the Psalter, I have a hard time getting past the three words in the first line, “I lack nothing” (NIV) (or “I shall not want” - ESV). I stumble over these words because there is plenty that I want. I want the newest gadgets. I want the smell of a new car. I want everyone to admire me. I want a conflict-free marriage. I want conflict-free parenting. I want no traffic. I want to be the first in line everywhere I go. I want scholarships for my kids. I want no one to get in the way of my plans. I want respect. I want ease, comfort, and pain-free life. I want perfect health and to simply die in my sleep in old age. God, I have no idea what it feels like to live a life lacking nothing. I can feel like I live in poverty because my want-er is broken. My desires are desperately misdirected. It’s not that David turned off desire; it’s that his desires were rightly directed. When he wrote this psalm, his want-er was working prop

  God, the beaver in the Chronicles of Narnia says it well, "They say Aslan is on the move - perhaps has already landed."   God, as I write this on February 22, 2023, the Asbury chapel has been going on for two weeks. You decided to use an ordinary chapel, an ordinary chapel speaker, and a few ordinary students who stayed to pray and confess to pour out your Spirit in ways we have not seen in America in decades. You have been pleased to visit that little campus in that little chapel in little Wilmore, Kentucky numerous times over the last 125 years - 1905, 1908, 1921, 1950, 1958, 1970, 1992, and 2006. Most of these were 3 or 4 days of continuous prayer and confession. Only in 1908 did it continue for two weeks. But what you did in the week of February 3, 1970, so closely parallels what is happening today, 53 years later. And God, I hear that these revivals were precipitated by students begging you to show up. As Psalm 40 expresses, they waited for you to show up. Prayed, wai

  Jesus, while words are utterly inadequate to describe the wonder, splendor, and majesty of this psalm, and while this psalm leaves us speechless, all we can get out of our mouths are the four simple words which conclude this psalm - “he has done it.” Jesus, we know you uttered the very first line of this psalm while on the cross (Matthew 27:46). In light of how closely verses 1-21 describe your experience on the cross, it would make perfect sense that between gasps, you uttered those verses as well. And then, in v. 22, the psalm shifts. There is hope - a sense of deliverance - a future proclamation to Israel and the nations. Jesus, as you hung on that cross, when you caught a moment of reprieve from the pain, to the astonishment of all who were listening, did you also utter these words of victory? As life was draining from your veins, were you praying the rest of this psalm, proclaiming your resurrection? We don’t know. But, we do know that you uttered the first line (My God,

  Lord, similarly to my prayer and reflections on Psalm 20, it isn’t too difficult to use a little sanctified imagination to hear the disciples also praying this psalm. But, this time, it’s the ragtag group of about 120 disciples and followers praying this psalm in the upper room just after they witnessed you ascending into heaven (Acts 1:14). God, only 50 days earlier, on a hopeless Saturday, they were left wondering how you couldn’t have answered their prayers of psalm 20 when you let the anointed King see defeat at the hands of his enemies. But then, hope returned as you raised the anointed King in victory over the greatest enemies the world has ever known - sin and death. And then, Jesus, after your resurrection, you opened their minds to the scriptures to see their fulfillment in you (Luke 24:27). And this brings us, Jesus, to that group of disciples praying in that upper room after your ascension and before the Spirit birthed the church (Acts 2). As they were huddled together

  Lord, with some sanctified imagination, I can imagine Peter, James, and John praying this psalm in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night of your betrayal. They knew the threats against you, and as they were fighting sleep, I can hear them praying for your protection (v. 1). They likely would have been praying for the Father to send help and to keep in mind how you have lived a fully devoted life (v. 2-3). Lord, maybe after you had to wake them up, they got back to this psalm and continued praying for you to receive your heart's desire and that God would grant victory to you and them (v. 4-5). And then, after being awakened by you again, they continue with an assurance that God will truly save his anointed. Others may trust in chariots, but if you had taught them anything, it was to trust in the Lord. And so, they confidently affirmed that they (and you) would rise in triumph (v. 6-8). And as they concluded this prayer with, "O lord, save the king" (v. 9), they dozed off

  God, this psalm celebrates the fact that you have spoken. As I look out my window and see the sun rising, I hear your voice.  Today, every one of the nearly 8 billion people on earth will have access to your glory as your sun makes its circuit around the globe. As the shadows fade today and the light and warmth of your sun slowly creep across countries and continents, you graciously declare, “Look at me. I am doing this. Knowledge is behind this. Design and goodness are orchestrating this symphony. Grace is warming you and is growing your crops. Here me when I daily declare to you my glory and goodness.” But God, this isn’t the only way you have spoken. You’ve also given us a book that declares explicitly who you are. God, with David, let me truly rejoice in it. Let me love it more than the riches of the world. And God, as I seek to delight in your word, use it to warn me (v. 11). Use it to help me see my sin (v. 12). Use it to help me walk in righteousness (v. 13). And

  God, this is a beautiful psalm celebrating how you moved heaving and earth to save David. Up to this point in the psalter, David is looking for your deliverance by faith. You have provided some smaller victories, but as the title of this psalm says, you have now defeated Saul and have subdued his enemies. After years of running for his life, you have finally placed your anointed on the throne. God, as I meditate on this psalm, I can’t help but think of how you so lovingly and powerfully saved me. I have known the bondage of the cords of death (v. 4 and 5). I have known the anxiety of feeling swallowed up in hopelessness. I’ve known the bondage and utter destruction of sin. I’ve known it as a 17-year-old, and I’ve known it as a 50-year-old. But, God, verses 7-17 paint a stunning image - that in response to my call of distress to you, you start moving - and not like an old man with arthritic knees. Instead, like a warrior, you thunder, and the earth quakes - hailstones, dark

Lord, this psalm is a cry of Ukraine today (and for the last several months).  It's definitely the cry of Tyre Nichols mother and a community fearful if they will be the next one pulled over and beaten.  And, it's a cry for all who have and are suffering unjustly. This is a psalm about suffering under injustice. And while it looks like David is saying that he is sinless, he seems to be saying that he has done nothing to deserve to be hunted like a wild animal. And so, I pray this psalm today in solidarity with those in our country who have suffered and continue to suffer unjustly, along with praying this for/with the Ukrainians. God, why are you acting unjustly by allowing the innocent to suffer at the hands of the powerful? Please hear the prayer of those calling out to you in their pain. God, vindicate the innocent (v. 1-2). God, while no one is guiltless, those tortured and killed by the ruthless don’t deserve this (v. 3-5). God, the wicked seem to be winning. This

Jesus, I thank you that this psalm is a glimpse into your soul. We have the privilege of hearing a good portion of this psalm quoted in the first-ever sermon of the early church in Acts 2. And, as Peter would point out, David said this about you (Acts 2: 25). Jesus, as David glimpsed into the future, it’s as if David was expressing your very heart.   What, then, was your heart?   - Your heart was glad (v. 9). - your whole being rejoiced (v. 9). - Your heart is full of joy (v. 11). - Your heart is experiencing eternal pleasures (v. 11). Jesus, you knew suffering in your earthly life. In fact, Isaiah 55:3 says that you were a “man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” You died as a slave. But, as Hebrews 12:2 declares, you endured the cross because of the “joy that was before you” - the joy on the other side of the cross. Jesus, in the dark clouds of sorrow and grief, there were the bright rays of light shining through.   Jesus, you were no stoic. You didn’t go through life devoid of em

Perfectly righteous !?! God, this psalm seems to stand in stark contrast to the description of the "fool" in Psalm 14. And, if Psalm 14 was an accurate description of who I am, this psalm certainly describes who I'm not. And, even though this is a psalm of David, it doesn't describe who he is either. "Who does no evil to his neighbor" (v. 3). Really? He slept with his neighbor and then killed her husband. I think that may classify as doing evil to your neighbor. And so, God, David and I are condemned by his very words. There is no way we could ever dwell in your presence - now nor for eternity. But, Jesus, thank you that, as a great, great, great (and many more greats) grandson of David, you were the one who perfectly fulfilled the righteousness that this psalm requires. Jesus, it is easy to say that you lived a perfect life. But, much more than that, you lived the righteous life I was required to live. Jesus, thank you gospel grace. And, thank you

  The verdict God, as I meditate on this psalm, I am overwhelmed by your gospel-graciousness. In reading verses 1-4, my mind immediately goes to Romans 3, where Paul quotes these verses as a final and declarative pronouncement of judgment upon all humanity. God, I cannot squirm my way out from under this judgment. I can’t defend myself against this verdict. I can’t become my own defense attorney to make a case that would make me not guilty. But God, you flip the script on its head. Instead of condemning the guilty fool and saving the righteous (as this psalm seems to declare), you saved the guilty fool by condemning the righteous. This is Paul’s gospel declaration - the just dying for the unjust so the unjust could be justified instead of condemned. God, salvation did indeed come out of Zion (v. 7). Jesus, you restored (v. 7) to us all that our sin robbed from us. Thank you, Jesus, for turning our terror (v. 5) into gospel-gladness. Amen

                                                                                                 Orbon Alija/E+/Getty Images How long? God, unlike irritated parents on a road trip after hours of relentless “How much longer” from the back seat, you seem to invite that question. Actually, it is so much more than a question, it’s a heart’s cry. Fifteen times in the Psalter, this question is asked of you. And four of those times are in this psalm alone. For David, it’s not just that the road trip is taking so long, but he’s literally wondering if dad even knows where he’s going. And like a four-year-old who can’t take it anymore, he’s wondering if he’ll even survive this trip. God, if I were honest, I don’t allow my heart to act like a four-year-old before you. So instead, I filter my prayers through a theology that tells me that God is sovereign, his timing is perfect; he will never leave or forsake me; he knows all, so of course, he will never forget me; he has a wonderful plan fo