He huddles, perhaps in a cave, deep in the cold darkness of night. His men sleep sprawled around him, swords always at the ready. Bending by the small flickering flame of an oil lamp, on a clay tablet or bit of leather, he pours out his aching heart.
How long, O LORD?
Will You forget me forever?
How long will you hide Your face from me?
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O LORD my God,
Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
And my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
And my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.
And as the preacher said, “Not one of Jesus’ disciples thought the cross was a good thing at the time.” Only later could they see the incredibility of what it meant, the indescribable good that came from the very worst case scenario in history. After seeing what God did there, he asked us, can we really tell the God of the cross that He doesn’t know what He is doing?“But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness,” David continues. “My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for He has dealt bountifully with me.”