Psalm 142

The Psalmist is beset with trouble on every side. All refuge failed him but his God. To God he has instant recourse.

1-2. "I cried to the Lord with my voice; with my voice to the Lord did I make my supplication. I poured out my complaint before Him; I showed before Him my trouble."

Troubles will surely meet us in our upward march. Let there be no vain attempt to endure in our own strength. We are weak to bear the crushing load. Let us rather bring all to the mercy-seat. Let us cast them at the feet of Him who cares for us. Who ever looked to heaven and failed to find relief? If God gives His presence, all burdens will be light.

3. "When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then You knew my path; in the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me."

When troubles come in like a flood, Omniscience marks our every step. It is good when we can call God to witness that our true desire is to walk closely by His side. But the cruel enemy will strive to fill this path with snares.

4-5. "I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man who would know me; refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul. I cried to You, O Lord; I said, You are my refuge and my portion in the land of the living."

Vain is the help of man. Worldly friends soon vanish when the trouble is adverse. Such desertion is grievous aggravation of distress.

To this the blessed Jesus was most exposed. They all forsook Him and fled. Such, also, is the common lot of His true disciples. Paul mourned, Know you not that all who are in Asia have turned away from me. But God is still near, and full of compassion. We can approach His ready smile. We shall ever find in Him a sufficiency which no creatures could supply. Safe are those who can say, "You are my refuge." Rich are those who can add, "You are my portion." Let us flee to this fortress. Let us rejoice in this portion. Loneliness dwells not in this climate.

6-7. "Attend to my cry; for I am brought very low; deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I. Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise Your name; the righteous shall compass me about; for You shall deal bountifully with me."

There are no depths of fear, which prevent a cry to the throne of God. Mercy hears and flies to give relief. Strong may be the persecutors. They may bring us very low. Strong is the arch-enemy of our salvation, but omnipotence is the attribute of our Deliverer. Let us trust, then, and not be afraid. Often are our souls enthralled by the shackles of unbelief and sin and weakness. God can open every prison-cell, and remove every detaining chain. Grateful lips will then ascribe deliverance entirely to Him. The righteous shall see God's gracious dealings, and flock to our fellowship. Good Lord, increase our faith, animate our prayers, strengthen our every grace, that our glad experience may set our hand to the acknowledgment that You have dealt bountifully with us.