“But God will never forget the needy; the hope of the afflicted will never perish” (Psalm 9:18).

This song comes from the harp of David the shepherd boy, not composed while he was tending sheep, but already a star in Israel. His success was growing. When he returned from battle, the women of Israel met him singing, "David has killed tens of thousands."

What does David do with his success? How does he respond when his enemies trip over their own feet hastily getting away from him? Does David gloat or get a big head?

No! David attributes his success to God. His victories are God's doing. When David fights enemies, he sees them as God's enemies, as those who stand opposed to God's purposes. God is accomplishing his purposes through David.

The establishment of David as king in Israel is a miniature foreshadowing of Jesus being established as King of Kings. In the gospels, Jesus is presented as the ultimate Son of David through whom God will fulfill all His promises. Like David, Jesus did not push himself towards kingship. He went about his ministry of humility, as Paul says in Philippians 2, until God raised him up.

One day, Jesus will be fully established as King of Kings; one day all will acknowledge him as such.

Until such a time, there will be conflict on this earth between those for and against Jesus. In this psalm, David focuses on those who are oppressed and those who do the oppressing. To put it differently, those who get ahead by walking over other people versus those who get walked on.

The hope for the oppressed is in God and his kingdom as Jesus will later express in the beatitudes. This hope calls us to prayer. When we see people oppressed, whether close by or far away, our first response is to pray for God’s kingdom to come.

It also calls us to remind our governments that they have a duty to establish laws that promote a just society for all. As members of God’s kingdom, we cannot simply sit on the side lines and watch. We are called to fight for the oppressed, using the tools and weapons of the kingdom, not with swords like Peter once attempted. Swords can come in many different forms. We believe that hope for this world is not in governments, nor in swords, nor in laws, but in Jesus Christ.

This hope for the afflicted also calls us to examine our own hearts. As Paul regularly reminds us, our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against power and principalities. That battle is waged first in our own hearts. As Paul also wrote, “Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me” (Romans 7:21). We can’t fight for the kingdom if we don’t first engage in the battle within our own hearts.

Thus, this hope for the afflicted invites us to examine who we are. Are we the kind of people who will walk over others to get ahead? How many have been belittled because of us? Are we willing to get involved with the afflicted and oppressed? Are we willing to get our hands dirty in the work of God’s kingdom?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm. May your day end with rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you. May you rest in his provision as he brings night, and then new dawn.

Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Your arrows have pierced me, and your hand has come down on me. … All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes. My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away. … Lord, I wait for you; you will answer, Lord my God. … Lord, do not forsake me; do not be far from me, my God. Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior. (Psalm 38:1-2, 9-11, 15, 22)

In the aftermath of a traumatic experience, a swirl of emotions, thoughts, and questions gush through us. Psalm 38 strikes me as kind of like that.

One thread seems to ask: is this my fault? Did I sin or do something wrong? Did I fail to do something that I should have? Am I being punished?

Another thread sees an enemy at work. The enemy is scheming, lying, seeking to do harm.

Yet another thread simply laments: my strength fails, the light is gone from my eyes. Even my friends and neighbours avoid me. The loneliness and emptiness we can feel in times of grief.

But it seems like the place that the psalm finally ends—which is also the place it begins—is with God. The psalmist recognizes that no matter what our circumstances, no matter what our sins are or aren’t, no matter our need: it all ultimately has to do with God. The buck stops at his door.

Our confession comes to God. Our provision, healing, and help come from God. Our salvation from trouble, enemies, sin, and evil come from God. Our very life is a gift of God. But perhaps the hard times we face are also in some way allowed by God too: because if he really is the King and ruler of this world—then the buck stops at his door.

And so the psalmist—faced with the pain, the evil, and the traumatic griefs of this world—turns to God as the one with whom we all have ultimately to do. “Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Your arrows have pierced me, and your hand has come down on me.” And you know this Lord, you see it. “All my longings lie open before you… my sighing is not hidden from you.”

Slowly, as the psalmist’s words pour out before God, the confused threads weave together into a prayer of submission and trust that cries out for salvation. “Lord, I wait for you; you will answer, Lord my God. … do not forsake me… come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior.”

Most of the awful or traumatic moments of our lives have to be wrestled out prayerfully with God in just this sort of Psalm 38 way. Not just once, but over and over again as the confused threads of our hearts and questions flow all over one another. But slowly, in bringing it out of our hearts and minds and offering it up before God, our unknowing is every so slowly transformed into a trustful waiting in God.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.
May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.
May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.
May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37:4).

These words have been carved on many a plague to adorn our kitchen walls and encased in picture frames for our living rooms. Sometimes preachers will choose it for a sermon text, leaving their congregations with the impression that if they just love the Lord enough, all will be well with them. As they define wellness.

The trouble is that these words are often ripped out of the context in which they have been passed down to us. Psalm 37 is not a “Don’t worry, be happy” kind of prayer. It begins, “Do not fret because of evil men or be envious of those who do wrong...”

It’s not about God giving us what we want. It is about worry, or rather, moving towards a worry-free life. But even that is not quite accurate. This psalm invites us towards lives in which we exchange despair for hope. Notice that its not quite a prayer, not directed towards God. If anything, it is directed towards God’s community of faith.

Why is despair so prevalent in this song? Because of evil and people who commit evil. They are everywhere and appear to have the upper hand. They commit acts of injustice, and they get away with it. Such people seem to have all the power, and the powerless simply get walked on.

In inviting us away from worry, and, I think, uncontrollable rage at injustice, the psalmist views life from the perspective of God’s promises, his commitment to bring justice, in his own time.

This psalmist is getting impatient. We can relate to that: all the places in the world where human conflict is creating refugees and the constant killings in our communities are just a few examples. But also, the tragedy of cancer, roadway accidents, and the deaths of those still in the prime of life. We can relate to the psalmist’s desire for justice now.

As the piece is composed, this singer remembers that in the end, evil doers will get their due. And the righteous will inherit the land. Jesus’ beatitude, "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5) is a succinct summary of this psalm.

Why doesn’t the psalmist just give us Jesus’ synopsis instead of going on and on? It’s formed around the 22 letters of the Hebrew language, so as we read it and pray it, our hearts slow down. As our brain waves follow suit, we ingest the truth that God will set all things right in His time. God did say, "I am making all things new" (Revelation 21:5).

Along the way, we are offered advice that leads towards less worry: trust God (3), he is able and willing to bring justice; commit your lives to Him (5), entrusting our plans and futures into the loving arms of our heavenly Father. When Jesus said, “I am with you always, to the very end of the age”, he was echoing one of the deepest melodies of the Old Testament.

We are encouraged to take delight in him (4), so that our desires change. We lose our own evil intentions and long only for the righteousness of His kingdom. God will fulfill those desires.

There is no mocking of grief here. There is a deep recognition that much is wrong in this world. The message is strong: evil will not have the final say. God’s justice will come. God’s justice means no more sickness and no more death, no more hunger and no more poverty. God himself will dry our tears.

Read this psalm again considering the visions of the new heaven and the new earth in the final chapters of Isaiah and Revelation. Let hope fill your heart!

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm. May your day end with rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you. May you rest in his provision as he brings night, and then new dawn.