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When we’re desperate for direction, we tend to reach for whatever voice sounds most confident, be it horoscopes, politicians or just about anyone who seems to know something we don’t. Deuteronomy 18 speaks to our searching, reminding us God has never left His people without a trustworthy voice to follow, and what He promised there points somewhere specific.
The wicked bend their bows, the foundations feel destroyed, and everyone around David has a reasonable-sounding answer: flee. Psalm 11 plants its feet against that pressure, asking whether the upheaval surrounding the righteous actually means what it looks like it means.
When evil still creeps in unchecked and we wonder why God doesn’t swoop down to stop it, it can feel as if He isn’t even paying attention. Psalm 11 speaks to us when we feel that nagging doubt.
When fear turns fierce and foundations feel destroyed, the counsel comes easy: flee like a bird to your mountain. In Psalm 11 David meets that advice head-on, asking how anyone can say it to his soul when he already takes refuge in the Lord.
When the wicked seem to win and justice feels nowhere in sight, fury rises faster than faith. At the close of Psalm 10, God does justice for the fatherless and the oppressed—that’s the firm promise. As we look to that, will we choose faith, or will we choose fury?
Music has a way of dealing with all sorts of struggles, even the ones that come while trying to create with the gifts God gave. You end up feeling like heaven is being forced to marry hell, wondering if God is near or far as you wait. Psalm 10 meets us in exactly that cry.
Do we only come to God when everything’s falling apart—when we’re without a prayer and just need a favor? In Psalm 10, it’s clear God is our Father, not just our favor giver, but too often we approach him only as the latter.
We often walk into church feeling as though we should polish up our pain and act like everything is under control. Psalm 10 gives us a different perspective, making room for the days when evil seems to prosper, God feels distant, and honest faith sounds more broken than triumphant.
We want hope, but we want to know it isn’t empty—especially when other powers seem to have the final say over our lives. In Ephesians 1:20–21, Paul points to God raising Jesus from the dead and seating him above every rule and authority, but do we live as if we believe that?