Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me. My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, Lord, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, God my Savior. Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.
Psalm 27:7-10 NIV
Loneliness—
Since Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, it has haunted humanity. That sin separated us from God, each other, and even in a sense from ourselves. Loneliness so stalks our lives that it can find us in a crowd or at home alone. It can find us in the arms of our best beloved and cradling our firstborn children. It finds the single and the married. It finds us at work and at leisure. It finds us in youth and old age. It is a universal form of suffering.
Bereavement is lonely; really any sort of emotional or physical pain is.
Chronic illness is lonely: no other person truly knows the experience of it, and it frequently removes us from our family and friends. Especially now, when opportunities for online discipleship, fellowship, worship, work, and study are being scaled back or discontinued, many medically vulnerable people are feeling left behind and lonely. Alienated. Exiles. Chronic and prolonged illness even alienates us from ourselves in the way it severs us from the “before” self so different from the one in the mirror and lying in the bed. There is a particular loneliness for the me I used to be, the me I still am sometimes in my dreams; it is a wistful ache, but the only way out of it is to forget the “before” self altogether. That would be poor comfort indeed.
In addition, loneliness often marks vocational ministry and missions. The leadership position can pose challenges to vulnerable, close relationships with the very people and church being cared for. Sometimes fellowship is found with other leaders or lay Christians outside the church congregation; sometimes the leader is physically present and immersed in the ministry community but emotionally distant for self-protection.
Those are only a few examples; really, loneliness is an equal-opportunity affliction. It can strike any sort of person at any time of life and any hour of the day. Loneliness can find us at high noon or at five on Friday afternoon, but I suggest that three in the morning is the loneliest hour of the day.
The Setting
This is the fourth essay in our series reflecting on Psalm 27. In this Psalm, God through David has given us a prayer-song for when we are afraid of the dark: whatever kind of dark, literal darkness or emotional and spiritual darkness. David seeks shelter in God’s personal presence with confidence borne out of His past rescues, and so can we.
Since communion with God was David’s “one thing,” the loss of fellowship with Him is David’s greatest fear, even more than family tragedy or military defeat. In the third section we’re examining today (7-10), David takes his fear (or experience) of rejection to the Lord and pleads for God’s continued presence. The very deepest sort of loneliness, I believe, is our existential loneliness for the God who made and sustains us. A deep cavern of loneliness in our inmost being is so shaped that only the Triune God can fill it.
The Search
Here the psalm takes a turn from talking about God (third person, for the English majors out there) to talking to God directly (second person); he changes from “he” language to “you” language. We might also notice that pleading, vulnerable prayer requests pour out in a rush of words and intense emotion:
Hear me
Be merciful to me
Answer me
Don’t hide Your face from me
Don’t push me away
Don’t reject me
Don’t forsake me
Psychologist and author Dr. Curt Thompson has said in his books and podcasts that “we are all born looking for someone looking for us” and that there is a universal human need to be “seen, soothed, safe, and secure.” Those are the desires and needs I see David taking to God in these verses. “I’m seeking Your face, Lord; will You meet my gaze? Are you looking back at me? Please don’t turn away.” David looks back at God’s past help and begs Him not to reject him now. The tone struck by the urgent pleas brings to my mind a child clinging to a beloved parent’s leg in separation anxiety, or a wife begging her husband to stay (or vice versa). David is searching for God, and his greatest fear seems to be that God will not let Himself be found in the moment of deepest need.
In Scripture, the face of God often symbolizes the favor of God. In the battles and attacks David is suffering while writing this Psalm (see the earlier verses and posts), what he mosts desires is God’s favor, represented in God’s face turned toward him and not hidden from him.
The Solace
After pouring all this out before the Lord, David remembers. He remembers God’s faithful help and says, to God and himself, that—even if the people most bound by love and duty to care for him should reject and abandon him—the Lord will always receive him.
We all fail the people we love most. Whether through intentional sin, personality and value differences, or simply the limitations of being human, we all fall short of satisfying our closest dear ones’ innermost needs. Finite humanity cannot fill a God-shaped void. David, the author of this Psalm, experienced murderous rage from his king and mentor, betrayal by servants and sons, and the involuntary “abandonment” of bereavement. In 1 Samuel 30, we read how even his own warriors turned against him and talked of stoning him. Despite all that, David declares his confidence in God’s glad welcome, even if every other person should turn away and turn against him.
As Charles Spurgeon reminded us, “‘But I am so lonely in the world,’ says another, ‘no man cares for me.’ There is one man at any rate who does so care; a true man like yourself. He is your brother still, and does not forget the lonely spirit" (Charles H. Spurgeon, Joy to the World). The Triune God is always with us and dwells in believers, not through any merit of our own, but because of the life and work of Christ. He has not left us as orphans (John 14:18). He never, never, never leaves or forsakes His people (Hebrews 13:5).
So What? Application
How are we to respond to these things?
Pray. Make these words your own. Pray them aloud or in your heart. Use them to turn the gaze of your heart back toward the Lord.
Seek God’s face. He is looking for you. Will you meet His eyes? “Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always” (Psalms 105:4 NIV). The people we love and earthly things we look to for our identity will always disappoint us eventually. Only the Lord can fully satisfy the lonely places of our hearts. Only our identity as the Lord’s children will never be stripped from us.
Trust His readiness to be found. "Jesus willingly looked at the back of God’s head so that we would never look at anything but his face. So, today, when you envision God with the eyes of your heart, envision his face, because if you are his child it is the only thing you are ever going to see" (Paul David Tripp, A Shelter in the Time of Storm).
Lean on His faithfulness. When people abandon you and betray you or simply let you down because of human limitations and not moral fault, take the loneliness, rejection, and disappointment to the Lord. Offer them to Him, and yourself with them. Jesus was forsaken by the Father on the cross so that His children never would be. When God seems hidden from us, we can take Him at His word as David does here. We can confess with our mouths even if we don’t feel it emotionally: “the Lord will receive me.” This is how we encourage ourselves in the Lord: we keep telling ourselves the truth, building new default mental patterns according to truth, until the day eventually comes when we feel the reality of it again.
Loneliness can be such a dark emotion. It can certainly contribute to our souls’ white nights. Thanks be to God that Christian believers are not without solace in our loneliness. Even if Jesus doesn’t take away the loneliness altogether, He will come into it with us. Even if He doesn’t immediately turn on the lights to dispel our emotional or spiritual darkness, He will hold our hands through the dark night of the soul (and always).
Christ’s heart for us means that he will be our never-failing friend no matter what friends we do or do not enjoy on earth. He offers us a friendship that gets underneath the pain of our loneliness. While that pain does not go away, its sting is made fully bearable by the far deeper friendship of Jesus. He walks with us through every moment. He knows the pain of being betrayed by a friend, but he will never betray us. He will not even so much as coolly welcome us. That is not who he is. That is not his heart (Dane Ortlund, Gentle and Lowly).
Please pray with me, using the words of missionary Amy Carmichael:
Lover Divine, whose love has sought and found me, Thou dost not leave me when the night is round me; Cause me to be, held fast by Love eternal, More than a conqueror.
Open mine eyes to see the stars above me, Quicken my heart that I may feel Thee love me, Make me, and keep me through Thy love eternal, More than a conqueror.
What storm can shatter, gloom of darkness frighten One whom the Lord doth shelter, cherish, lighten? O let me be, through powers of love eternal, More than a conqueror (Rose from Brier, 138).
In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ I ask this. Amen.
One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock. Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me; at his sacred tent I will sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord.
Psalm 27:4-6, NIV
Our dawn sky today
What is your “one thing?” If the Lord told you, as He did
Solomon, that he would give you any one thing you asked, what one thing would
you seek? Health, family, financial security? Success, influence, popularity?
Wisdom, advanced degrees, expertise? Marriage, children, reconciliation,
forgiveness?
In Psalm 27:4 and elsewhere, David—the man after God’s own
heart—says that his “one thing” is to dwell with God, to behold Him face to
face.
In David’s time, the tabernacle had already passed into cultural
memory. Only the ark of the covenant, which was the gold-covered chest holding the tablets of the law God gave to Moses, remained. It had been captured by the
Philistines before David’s time but was returned in David's lifetime to Jerusalem, God’s chosen city
for the Hebrews to worship Him. It was housed in a tent, but not the beautiful, God-designed tent of meeting
from Moses’ time. The temple, however, had not yet been built. David lived between the tabernacle of the past and the temple yet to come.
David desperately wanted to build a glorious house for the ark
representing God’s presence; it would be the one designated place for ritual sacrifices
to occur. When he told his desire, however, the Lord told him that
David was not to build Him a house, but instead, God would build David a house.
A dynastic house. And David’s son Solomon would in fact be the one to build a
house for the worship of Yahweh, the God of Israel. We call this promise the
Davidic covenant; in it, God promised that David’s descendants would be the
rightful rulers of Israel. (This conversation can be read in 2 Samuel 7.)
Since David could not do what he wanted, he did what he
could. He dedicated the spoils of his battles to the splendor of the temple to
come. Moreover, David told Solomon in 1
Chronicles 28:19 that the plans he was giving his son had been revealed to
David by God Himself. To some extent, in some spiritual sense, David glimpsed what
the temple would be, though it was not build during his lifetime. He even wrote
a prayer-song for its dedication, as the epigraph of Psalm 30 notes.
In the above verses from Psalm 27, David freely uses a
variety of terms for God’s dwelling: house of the Lord, temple, dwelling,
shelter, and sacred tent (or tabernacle). The common connection among them all
is the God who dwells there. More than anything in the world—and David had wealth, power, influence, celebrity,
and success—David wanted to dwell with God. In God’s presence, he finds beauty,
shelter, victory, worship, and joy.
With Him, every wilderness was a castle, a paradise;
without Him, every castle was a wilderness.
The New Testament reveals that Jesus is the true tabernacle
and temple (John 1:14; 4:21-24; Hebrews 8:1-2, 5; 9:8, 11, 21, 23-28; 10:19-25).
Jesus is for all time the presence of God in human flesh. He is the dwelling
place of God.
Revelation indicates that all the tabernacles and temples
of the past pointed forward to the new creation on the way to us, when the
dwelling of God will be with men in the fullest possible way: “And I heard a loud
voice from the throne, saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and
He shall dwell [tabernacle] among them, and they shall be His people, and God
Himself shall be among them, and He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes,;
and there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning,
or crying, or pain; the first things have passe away’” (Revelation 21:3-4, NASB1995).
In that age there will be no more temple, “for the Lord God, the Almighty, and the
Lamb, are its temple” (Rev. 21:22, NASB 1995).
Do you remember from the first essay in this series that I
said, when I am afraid of the dark, when I am in a three-o’clock season of the
soul, the two things I want most are a light and a person. Last time we focused
on the light God gives. This time David points our attention back to a person,
the person of the Triune God.
David’s “one thing” to dwell in God’s presence and gaze on
His loveliness is the birthright of all who have been born again into God’s
family by grace through faith. John’s gospel, in particular, emphasizes that
the believer dwells or abides in God, and God abides in Him. We who believe in
Jesus are never separated from God’s presence. He is nearer than our next
breath. He is intimately acquainted with all our ways. He never leaves us alone
in the darkness, and the darkness is not even dark to Him (Psalm 139).
He is not repelled by our sorrow, brokenness, and sin. No matter what we are going through right now, we are never “too much” for the Lord Jesus. In fact, the Puritan preacher Samuel Rutherford wrote from his imprisonment for the gospel, “There is no sweeter fellowship with Christ than to bring our wounds and our sores to him” (The Loveliness of Christ, Kindle location 130). The young Scottish pastor Robert Murray M’Cheyne advised, “Learn much of the Lord Jesus. For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ. He is altogether lovely. Such infinite majesty, and yet such meekness and grace, and all for sinners, even the chief! Live much in the smiles of God. Bask in his beams” (Memoir and Remains of Robert Murray M’Cheyne, 293).
His love enlightens our darkness. His presence comforts our
loneliness. Should we lose all lesser “one things” as Job did, should we even
lose our earthly lives, we have enough and more in Christ Jesus. Any other
thing we place on the throne of our lives will eventually disappoint, but Jesus
never will. His love is better than health, wealth, power, or fame. His
presence is better than family, earthly friendship, marriage, or children. “His
love hath neither brim nor bottom. Go where ye will, your soul shall not sleep
sound but in Christ’s bosom. I find that our wants qualify us for Christ”
(Samuel Rutherford, The Loveliness of Christ, Kindle location 177).
Even when we feel our lives have hit rock-bottom, we have not found the bottom of His mercies, grace, love, and kindness. His love is deeper than our deepest needs and wounds. His love is stronger than whatever holds us in bondage. His love is greater than all we lack or lose.
Is this finding you in a season of darkness, beloved? Take
your wants and your wounds to Jesus. Let His smile shine into your darkness.
Lean into His presence by faith, if you cannot by feeling. If you can’t say with
David that the Lord is your one thing, let’s ask together that it may be so.
Please pray with me.
“Grant, most sweet and loving Jesus, that I may seek my
repose in You above every creature; above all health and beauty; above every
honor and glory; every power and dignity; above all knowledge and cleverness,
all riches and arts, all joy and gladness; above all things visible and
invisible; and may I seek my repose in You above everything that is not You, my
God. You alone are most beautiful and loving, You alone are most noble and
glorious above all things. In You is every perfection that has been or ever
will be. Therefore, whatever You give me besides Yourself, whatever You reveal
to me concerning Yourself, and whatever You promise, is too small and
insufficient if I do not see and fully enjoy You alone. For my heart cannot
rest or be fully content until, rising above all gifts and every created thing,
it rests in You” (Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ).
I ask these things in the name of Christ Jesus our light
and our love. Amen.
In Psalm 27, God through David has given us a prayer-song for when we are afraid of the dark—whatever kind of dark, whether literal darkness or emotional and spiritual darkness. In this Psalm, David seeks shelter in God’s personal presence with confidence borne out of His past rescues. In the first post, we considered the themes and structure of the Psalm as a whole. In this post, we’re dwelling on the first section of three verses.
In this first section (27:1-3), David describes his experience of God’s saving defense. The Psalm begins with a pair of parallel couplets: David says something true of God, then asks a rhetorical question brimming with confidence. And he does this twice.
He has known the Lord as his light, his salvation, his stronghold, and his defense.
Light at night gives us guidance and security. City girls like me are rather insulated against real darkness, apart from a blackout during a storm, but we might think of a flashlight when there is no power or a nightlight in a dark bedroom for comfort and vision. Or perhaps we think of the comforting familiarity of the lights given by God to mark the days and seasons, the constellations and moonlight that guided and kept David company during the long nights with his flocks.
Without light at night, we so easily lose our way. In college, I had to drive down a dark, two-lane country road to go to an evening Bible study. Looking for an unlit gate and driveway in the absence of streetlights or even house lights visible from the highway always gave me anxiety. The void of a dark world beyond the small puddle of light from my headlamps felt ominous and insecure. I wanted brighter, better light to lead me to my destination. Continuing the theme, we might think of the pillar of God’s glory-fire which led and also guarded the Israelites during their wilderness wanderings for 40 years:
“The Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to lead them on their way during the day and in a pillar of fire to give them light at night, so that they could travel day or night. The pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night never left its place in front of the people.”
Exodus 13:21-22 CSB
That light showed God’s people God’s way and provided a visible reminder of the security of God’s presence. God also displayed His presence in a bright shekinah glory cloud descending on Solomon’s temple at its dedication:
“When the priests came out of the holy place, the cloud filled the Lord’s temple, and because of the cloud, the priests were not able to continue ministering, for the glory of the Lord filled the temple.”
1 Kings 8:10-11 CSB
In these two examples, the presence of God manifests as light, glorious light. In the new Jerusalem to come, the apostle John foresaw:
“The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, because the glory of God illuminates it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never close by day because it will never be night there.”
Revelation 21:23-25 CSB
The Lord is not only David’s light: He is also his salvation. Salvation, in its simplest sense, means rescue. In Hebrew, it could also be translated “room to breathe” (Thomas Nelson Study Bible, note on Psalm 3:8). “Light” and “salvation” in combination convey the single concept of “saving light.” The most intense darkness I remember was the darkness outside our tent on a camping trip early in our marriage. My mini Maglite flashlight could not budge the weighed blanket of darkness pressing in on me. Darkness like that feels alive and threatening, even predatory. Every noise is freighted with awful possibility and unseen dangers. In that darkness, a trusted person bearing a stronger light would have felt like rescue and security. (The related names Joshua and Jesus mean “Yahweh saves,” or in the simplest sense, “Savior.”) It is possible that the salvation in this verse has a near-term meaning of God’s miraculous rescue from human enemies and physical danger, of which David knew plenty; at the same time, it is possible that the shadow of the cross marks this verse with the spiritual sense of rescue from sin and death in the person of the Savior, Jesus Christ. In any case, David celebrates God as his Rescuer, even though in the moment he is surrounded by enemies who want to eat him alive (verse 2).
The word “stronghold” or “refuge” conveys the image of a fortress or castle. Tolkien fans may think of Helm’s Deep; or in a more modern image, one might imagine a nuclear bunker deep beneath the earth or a panic room. This fortress is such a sure and well-defended one that the wicked advancing against David will themselves be defeated. David has confidence because God is his impenetrable fortress, a castle no enemy can breach without His permission.
Where does this confidence come from? Surrounded by enemies, threatened by the wicked, war declared against him, even so David is confident in victory. David can take courage despite overwhelming foes and difficulties because, as strong and powerful as they are, his God is even mightier.
This confidence does not imply that trusting God means health, wealth, and prosperity. Nor does it guarantee every battle will go our way or no hurt come to us. It does, however, mean that for the child of God, all things weave together for our good and God’s glory. It means God is with us and for us in all things. It means that, when the last page of our life is written, all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well (Julian of Norwich).
As a whole, David testifies that God is his light in the darkness, his comforting Guide, his Rescuer, his secure fortress, his unconquerable defense. This first section of Psalm 27 starts and ends with David’s declaration of trust: even if an entire army has him surrounded and declares war, his heart will not fear but will instead be confident. So strong is his experience of God’s protection.
An echo of David’s confidence sounds a millennium later at the end of Romans 8:
“What, then, are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He did not even spare his own Son but gave him up for us all. How will he not also with him grant us everything? Who can bring an accusation against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies. Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is the one who died, but even more, has been raised; he also is at the right hand of God and intercedes for us. Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: Because of you we are being put to death all day long; we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered. No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”
Romans 8:31-37 CSB
What about you? Can you remember a time in your life when the Lord showed Himself to be your light and your salvation? Have you experienced God’s rescue from enemies who were too strong for you? If so, spend some time remembering and perhaps journaling God’s work in your past as a way to encourage trust in Him now. If not, I encourage you to borrow courage from the experiences of people in the Bible and Christian history: people like Joseph and Joshua, David and Elijah, Daniel and Peter and Paul; people like Corrie ten Boom, Darlene Deibler Rose, John Newton, John Bunyan, Jane Grey, Ridley and Latimer, and Charles Spurgeon.
Are you overwhelmed and outnumbered by enemies and battles today? Are you besieged by trials and squeezed by difficulties? Does it feel like human helpers have failed and comforts fled, leaving you alone and scared in the dark? If so, my heart is with yours. Your troubles do not mean God’s absence. He will never leave or abandon you. The battles you’ve lost and sins you’ve committed do not mean you have lost the war or forfeited God’s love. In the darkness, I encourage you to dwell on the greatness and power of God more than you contemplate the strength of your enemies and the size of your challenges. In the darkness, the stars seem brighter. Look for the light in the darkness; ask for His light. Look for the promises of God. Look at His faithfulness over the millennia of human history. Hope against hope that He will be for you what He has been for others.
The God who has rescued, led, defended, and comforted in the dark nights and desperate battles of others still does so today. We can trust Him with our souls’ three o’clocks.
Lord, in our darkness shine Your light.
In our tribulations, be our Rescuer.
When we are under attack from enemies without and fears within, be our strong refuge, our safe place.
All our hope and confidence are in You. We believe; help our unbelief, in Jesus’ name. Amen.
This is the first installment of a series on Psalm 27. Here are four photos from Saturday’s annular eclipse and one of Venus, the Morning Star, in the east just before the dawn.
Have you ever been afraid of the dark? As a child, were you afraid of monsters under the bed or ghouls in the closet? Or perhaps you are not afraid of the absence of light but of the dark night of the soul, the three-o’clock bleakness of spirit?
You may know the author Lucy Maud Montgomery from her character Anne Shirley. In another series, her character Emily Starr experienced these “white nights,” as she called them, at times of loss and momentous decisions. Here is one typical description:
“Woke up at three and couldn't even cry. Tears seemed as foolish as laughter—or ambition. I was quite bankrupt in hope and belief. And then I got up in the chilly grey dawn and began a new story. Don't let a three-o'clock-at-night feeling fog your soul."
"Unfortunately there's a three o'clock every night," said Teddy. "At that ungodly hour I am always convinced that if you want things too much you're not likely ever to get them” (L. M. Montgomery, Emily’s Quest).
F. Scott Fitzgerald used the same metaphor years later in The Crack-Up:
Now the standard cure for one who is sunk is to consider those in actual destitution or physical suffering—this is an all-weather beatitude for gloom in general and fairly salutary day-time advice for everyone. But at three o’clock in the morning, a forgotten package has the same tragic importance as a death sentence, and the cure doesn’t work—and in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.
Or perhaps you have said with the late Rich Mullins, “When I wake up in the night and feel the dark/It’s so hot inside my soul, I swear there must be blisters on my heart” (“Hold Me Jesus,” from A Liturgy, A Legacy, and a Ragamuffin Band).
Have you known that feeling? I suspect many, if not most, of us have in the last four years.
When you are afraid of the dark, whatever kind of dark it is, what do you want? For myself, I think I want two things: a light and a person, specifically someone bigger and stronger than me. A protector. A champion.
King David, ruler of Israel three millennia ago, would have been on friendly terms with the night and constellations from his youth as a shepherd. He had faced and bested the wild things that might seize the darkness to prowl and pounce on the sheep he kept. But I suspect there were many other nights alone with flock and stars, with perhaps a stone for his pillow and his harp for refreshment.
David, however, knew many, many spiritual and emotional dark nights. He faced attacks from enemies, betrayals from friends, consequences of his own lost spiritual battles, tragic sins among his children, and even a coup by his own beloved Absalom, Absalom, his son.
In Psalm 27, God through David has given us a prayer-song for when we are afraid of the dark. Whatever kind of dark. In these verses, David seeks shelter in God’s personal presence with confidence borne out of His past rescues. Like me, he seems to seek God’s light and His protection.
As I have prayerfully pondered this passage, I see five sections. The first four sections each begin with statements of David’s relationship with God and conclude with a declaration of trust. The final section consists of a single verse that captures David’s counsel to his own heart. In verses 1-3, David describes his experience of God’s saving defense; in verses 4-6, David describes his expectation of God’s sheltering presence; in verses 7-10, David pleads for God’s presence; and in verses 11-13, David pleads for God’s protection. Alternately, verses 1-6 describe David’s experience and expectation of God’s protection, and in verses 7-13 David pleads directly to God for His protective presence. In the concluding section, verse 14, David counsels his heart toward courage.
In the coming posts, we will seek to work through these verses one section at a time and conclude by asking and answering the question of what difference this makes in our own dark nights. For the moment, I will offer you this: the sun has not abandoned us at 3AM, and it has not failed when a solar eclipse blocks its light at midday. The sun still shines and radiates heat, even when we cannot see it. The difficulty is that something has come between us temporarily and hidden it from our view. Yet it always returns and always will until that great Day when we will no more need sun or moon, for the Lord our God will be our light in the eternal nightless city.
In the dark, faith waits in expectation of the light’s return. Faith holds fast to the hope that the light remains even when we cannot see it. Sometimes we grow weary of the waiting, and our faith and hope waver. In those seasons, this Psalm reminds me to remember the times the light previously shone out of darkness, both in my own life and in the lives of other people of faith, past and present. Remembering yesterday’s light sustains me in today’s darkness with hope light may return as soon as tomorrow.
Will we let God’s mysterious hiddenness drive us from Him or drive us to seek His face even more? Hudson Taylor, the pioneer missionary to inland China, said this: “It does not matter how great the pressure is. What really matters is where the pressure lies—whether it comes between you and God, or whether it presses you nearer His heart.”
My heart says of you, “Seek his face!”
Your face, Lord, I will seek.
Psalm 27:8
Before the next post in this series, I suggest that you take time, if possible, to read or listen to the whole of Psalm 27 at least once. As we go on, I will provide the Bible text in shorter segments to keep it before our minds for our reflections. With the final post, I intend to provide the option to download a PDF document of the whole series in one place.
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