Sometimes life comes crashing in on us, and there seems to be nothing we can do about it. It hurts so badly that we can’t eat, we can’t sleep, and it feels like we’re all alone. Now add in some people to laugh at your situation, and you have the cry of Psalm 102. This is the “prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed and pours out his complaint before the LORD.” And as the psalmist pours out his complaint, he finds an answer: an everlasting God who loves His people forever.
Life is short and painful (v. 1-11). The psalmist said he was going to pour out his complaint, and he does just that. The words tumble over each other in their intensity, begging the LORD not to ignore him (v. 1-2), expressing the pain of his sorrow (v. 3), telling how he is withering under the weight of long-lasting misery (v. 4-5). This isn’t some momentary sadness; he faces the weariness of getting up day after day and the pain still being there. Have you noticed how that ache of stress just adds to the problem? And he has the sense that he’s all alone, like some unclean bird out in the desert, or like a single tiny bird in an exposed place with no companionship or protection (v. 6-7). Enemies crowd around to kick him while he’s down (v. 8), and it seems like God Himself has thrown him away (v. 9-10). Life is fading before his eyes, and it seems like it will be all over in a matter of days (v. 11). The psalmist has no problem telling God exactly where he is—yet there is a note of faith here; the complaint is to the God who feels far off, not about Him.
“But You, O LORD, shall endure forever” (v. 12-22). But even now the psalmist finds the answer to fleeting, withering, sorrow-filled days: the eternal, merciful God will come. Our days might be a mere shadow or withering grass, but His name lasts to all generations (v. 12). He has promised to show mercy on His people—and it’s time for that mercy, because now is when we need it most (v. 13-14)! When He keeps His promises, all the nations will be in awe, because this God listens to His people and delivers them (v. 15-16). It may feel like He has cast us out and ignored us (v. 10), but in truth He will listen to the destitute and not reject their prayers (v. 17). When He does come, we will be able to tell others, to encourage them in the midst of their sorrows: “He saw us, He heard us, He rescued us from the death-row prison of misery and danger. He’ll rescue you, too. He’s worth trusting and praising” (v. 18-22)!
Life is short, but it won’t always be (v. 23-28). The pain just checked in again; seeing the reality of who God is put it in perspective, but the psalmist’s situation hasn’t changed at this point. He’s still weak, and he’s praying that God would not let him die early (v. 23-24). But life is short regardless, isn’t it? Compared to God’s eternity, even the world itself, which God set up long ago, will wear out pretty soon—they aren’t the everlasting God (v. 25-27). But the psalm ends on a note of renewed hope. Despite the shortness of life—and even the world will get old—God’s people will last, because God lasts (v. 28). Because we are not merely weak creatures (though we are that), but creatures who find their life in Christ, we will live with Him for all eternity, enjoying His rescue forever. That doesn’t make the affliction go away today—we still weep and pray—but it reminds us that because of our everlasting, merciful God, life gets longer and sweeter down the road.
Grace and peace, Mike Yates
Life and Godliness 