When I think of King David, I picture him as a man of great strength and calmness. Sometimes, too, I picture him as having it all together, sensing God by his side at all times and confident that he is going to prevail. But this psalm paints a different picture, a more human picture, of King David: “Have compassion on me, Lord, for I am weak,” he says in verse 2. Then head to verses 6 and 7: “I am worn out from sobbing. All night I flood my bed with weeping, drenching it with my tears. My vision is blurred by grief; my eyes are worn out because of all my enemies.”
These are not the words of a stalky man who’s got it all together. These are words of desperation and despair. These are words of pain and heartache. Have you ever been plumb worn out from sobbing? It’s painful. Have you ever cried so much your pillow and shirt were wet all the way through? That’s weeping at its finest. Have you ever been unable to see because of tears in your eyes? That’s blinding grief.
This is King David’s state. The king of Judah, the anointed ruler, the man who was handpicked and blessed by God was struggling, y’all. Big time. He was struggling emotionally, physically and spiritually, I’m sure. I mean, wouldn’t you be asking God all kinds of questions if you were the king … on the run … peeing and hiding in caves … from your own dang son????? Yes, you would. Don’t you even try to lie about it. And I know I’d be crying a lot, too, so I’m not judging King David one bit here. I’m simply saying he’s human, and I’m glad.
Sum it up:
Lord, please have compassion on me!
I’m broken. I hurt. I am lost.
Save me so I can give you all the glory.
I have cried so much that my clothes are wet.
My eyes are blurred.
And this is all because of my enemies.
Send them away, please.
I know you see me and hear me and will answer me.
And I know my enemies will leave me alone.
Writing prompt: broke
Write about a time you just broke from suffering.