Psalm 77 “A God for Sleepless Nights and Speechless Days”

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As Derek mentioned earlier, we are talking about a psalm of lament this morning.

Psalms of lament are actually the most common type of psalm in the hymn book of God's people.

About 40% of all the songs he gives us.

I noticed reading through the psalms this time in our reading plan, it just felt to me like every page I turned,

the psalmist was being attacked by his enemies or oppressors.

He was discouraged, again, page after page, chapter after chapter.

And these are psalms that put into the mouths of God's people singing to him, praying to him words of distress,

of depression, of despair.

They're put into our mouths because sometimes we are so overwhelmed that we have no words.

We will read today of feeling so troubled you cannot speak.

While God is holding your eyes open so that you also can't sleep.

And some of you know right now about sleepless nights and speechless days that are in the title of this sermon.

I suspect if we're really honest that most of us, including me, would be uncomfortable with our worship services being that full of lamentation.

Of crying out to God and hurting and mourning.

There is more than one different psalm of lament for every Sunday of the year.

Can you imagine if that was over and over and over what we would sing?

But remember, we're in the psalms to ask God to shape our hearts in relationship with him.

So perhaps where our hearts are most uncomfortable, we most need his help.

Let's read Psalm 77 together and then ask Holy Spirit to shape our hearts according to God's holy word.

Rather than our own selfish comforts.

Psalm 77.

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me.

In the day of my trouble, I seek the Lord.

In the night, my hand is stretched out without wearying.

My soul refuses to be comforted.

When I remember God, I moan.

When I meditate, my spirit faints.

You hold my eyelids open.

I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

I consider the days of old, the years long ago.

I said, let me remember my song in the night.

Let me meditate in my heart.

Then my spirit made a diligent search.

Will the Lord spurn forever?

And never again be favorable?

Has his steadfast love forever ceased?

Are his promises at an end for all time?

Has God forgotten to be gracious?

Has he in anger shut up his compassion?

Then I said, I will appeal to this to the years of the right hand of the Most High.

I will remember the deeds of the Lord.

Yes, I will remember your wonders of old.

I will ponder all your work and meditate on your mighty deeds.

Your way, O God, is holy.

What God is great like our God?

You are the God who works wonders.

You have made known your might among the peoples.

You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph.

When the water saw you, O God, when the water saw you, they were afraid.

Indeed, the deep trembled.

The clouds poured out water.

The skies gave forth thunder.

Your arrows flashed on every side.

The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind.

Your lightnings lighted up the world.

The earth trembled and shook.

Your way was through the sea.

Your path through the great waters.

Yet your footprints were unseen.

You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

God, we give you thanks for your word.

God, we acknowledge how deeply we resonate with some of the feelings and experiences that we just read.

And so we ask for your help.

That we not just understand, but that our hearts are truly shaped by what you would have us to hear and to feel.

And to speak to you.

Speak to us and for your hearts to speak to you also this morning.

We ask in Jesus' name.

Amen.

If you asked me when I was a kid what emojis should most be used to depict the life of a Christian,

I would have asked you what an emoji was.

But then, after understanding what you meant, I would have certainly chosen the big smiley faces.

Yes, probably especially the one on the end.

That's what it means to be walking with God.

Now that I've lived a few more years and read a few more psalms,

I realize how appropriate others can be.

This one, or even this one, or my favorite.

That one, which means I am so confused.

I don't know what's going on, but it is out of my control.

And I don't even know how I feel right now.

It's a favorite of my grace group when I ask them to give us an update on how their week has gone

through sending an emoji to the group.

Aren't you sad you're not in my group?

Yes, it's true that there is always a joyful hope for those who know Jesus.

But these painful emotions are part and parcel of life in relationship with God.

And he wants to hear them.

I mean, think about the history of God's people.

For generations and generations, they were in bondage in Egypt.

Seemingly neglected by a God of big promises.

But they're slaving away and they're getting nowhere.

Even after God delivers them, that very generation ends up wandering around in the wilderness for 40 years.

Not too long after they get settled with some happy days in the promised land, God's people are exiled.

Not too long after he brings them back from exile, they end up waiting silently for generations and generations.

With no word from any prophet, where is God until John and then Jesus finally show up?

Jesus and the New Testament writers tell Christians that suffering is not abnormal.

In fact, we should expect persecution, they say.

God's people are a lamenting people.

Maybe now we can understand a little better why so many of the hymns of God's people are laments.

God's people ought to lament.

God says his people should cry to him when they're hurting, afraid, discouraged, despairing.

In fact, we should do it often.

It's repeated there in verse 1 by Asaph.

I cry aloud.

Allowed to God.

All night praying over and over.

Hands outstretched.

Begging loudly for help.

But isn't that a little inappropriate?

Won't God wait until we speak in a more put-together manner?

Theologically rich with a very polished tone?

Wouldn't he prefer that?

That's not what Asaph says.

God hears these cries.

That's not what Jesus did.

Hebrews chapter 5.

Hebrews 5 · chapter mention

In the days of his flesh, when Jesus was here experiencing life on this earth,

Jesus offered up prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears

to him who was able to save him from death.

And he was heard because of his reverence as he cried out and wept tears.

It is reverent to run desperate to one who can help.

It's the proper response of a hurting child to cry out for a helpful parent.

It is the right way for Christians to handle our pains.

To cry loud to God.

I mean, after all, what kind of relationship do you have with someone?

If you only tell them about your good days and your happy feelings?

The laments of Scripture are calling you to be honest about your heart.

It's not only that you experience hard things,

but you must also express the full range of emotions.

I don't have to tell you that life is hard.

Just in the last few days,

you have shared with me things like overwhelming family drama,

chronic pain that is wearing you down,

defeat in battles with sin,

heartbreak over adult children,

slow progress by the church in reaching our neighbors.

We lament school shootings and social injustice and poverty

and persecution of God's people around the world.

And God calls us to express the emotions we feel

in such heart-wrenching circumstances.

And there are many, many others just in this room.

To whom do we express them?

Where do we go with such feelings?

To him.

Don't miss this.

I cry aloud to God.

In the day of my trouble, I seek the Lord.

See, lament is a part of worship.

It's a part of, that's the way you relate to God.

You know, a relationship of worship with him.

Because lament demonstrates faith in

and dependence on God.

It's pleading for help from a God who is sovereign and faithful.

It's crying out against injustice to a God who has promised to bring justice.

It's bringing our weariness in struggle to a God who offers peace and rest.

That's why a vital part of lament is talking to God himself about who he is,

what he has promised,

and how he has acted in times past.

Is that where you go?

When life falls apart?

When it just feels like too much?

Do you go to God?

Sometimes I do.

Sometimes I look to myself and work harder to make things work the way I want them to.

Sometimes I look to another area of life where I can feel some more positive inputs

and ignore the hard places.

Sometimes I seek to escape the hard things.

Just avoid them altogether.

Some ways that are healthier than others,

but I just want to get away from them.

Anyone else?

In the day of my trouble,

I seek the Lord.

Listen, I want to make sure you hear this.

This is more than permission for the weak who just can't handle it sometimes.

They're just not strong enough.

No, no, no.

This is instruction to all of our hearts to relate to our God this way.

Faithfully relying on him to be strong enough and to be our only hope.

Cry aloud to God.

And by the way, when someone is bemoaning things to you,

listen.

Listen patiently to them, right?

And ask if they've told God what they're processing with you.

How are you talking with God about that?

How could I be asking God to help with what you are sharing?

Biblical lament teaches us that God's people must cry at times

in a world that is not our home.

And we must cry to Him.

Anne Steele wrote in her hymn,

Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul.

By the way, please sing some of the hymns from this service,

from the meditation through the end.

If you're hurting her,

great lyrics of lament in the Psalms

and in the hymns of God's people through the ages.

Anne Steele wrote,

Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?

And shall I seek in vain?

And can the ear of sovereign grace be deaf when I complain?

No!

Still the ear of sovereign grace attends the mourner's prayer.

Oh, may I ever find access to breathe my sorrows there.

If you've never cried out to God,

come.

Let Him be your refuge.

He longs for that.

If you've often cried out to God,

come again.

He never tires of being your refuge.

Puritan Thomas Brooks had seen God

meet him in dark places

and he wrote,

Oh, despairing souls,

you see that others whose conditions have been as bad,

if not worse than yours,

have obtained mercy.

God hath turned their hell into heaven.

He hath remembered them in their lowest state.

He hath pacified their raging consciences

and quieted their distracted souls.

He hath wiped all tears from their eyes.

And he hath been a wellspring of life unto their hearts.

Therefore,

be not discouraged,

oh, despairing souls,

but look up

to the mercy seat.

That's good advice.

Look up to the mercy seat.

But,

let's make sure we don't think

crying out to God

is a quick fix solution

to our troubles.

Making the pain go away

is not

the purpose

of lament.

lament.

This is,

frankly,

where Psalm 77

gets even more

disturbing.

But,

I think also more

helpful

and hopeful.

The psalmist

is doing all the right things,

it seems.

And yet,

his soul

refuses

to be comforted.

Verse 2.

In fact,

he does

what we just talked about

last week.

He remembers

God,

and yet,

what happens?

He moans.

God may be meeting others,

Thomas Brooks,

but I don't feel him

showing up for me,

so the fact that he's

showing up for others

just frustrates me

even more.

Now I'm angry.

Now I'm confused

why he's not showing up

when I cry.

Why?

The psalmist

meditates.

That's what Psalm 1

told us to do,

right?

He remembers

the good days,

the times he could sing

in the dark night

of the soul,

but that only seems

to remind him

that God hasn't been

giving him a song

like that lately,

the way that he did

back then.

And so he meditates

more on God himself,

and yet,

his spirit

faints.

Maybe you're saying,

Will,

I'm one week into

the Psalm 119

challenge you gave us,

and I don't feel

different.

Something must be

wrong with me,

or it's wrong with God.

I'm just more

disheartened

than when I came

last Sunday.

Why?

Great British preacher

of the 1800s,

Charles Spurgeon,

knew the feeling

all too well.

Like many famous

Christians,

he battled

persistent depression.

He relates to

verse 4

of this psalm,

No respite

has been afforded

us by the silence

of the night.

Our bed

has been a rack

to us.

Our body

has been in torment

and our spirit

in anguish.

Have you been there?

God,

I just

want to go

to sleep.

And it seems

God is

keeping you

awake.

Sometimes when it's

really dark,

thinking on God

actually intensifies

the pain,

doesn't it?

Going to God

is not some

magic eraser

of bad feelings.

Many of you

know that.

I talked

with a guy

recently who

grew up in church,

but he's struggling

after decades

of feeling

that God

doesn't respond

to him

the way he

seems to respond

to all of his

friends.

It seems

to him

after all this

time,

the best path

forward is to

lower his

expectations,

quit talking

to God

altogether

so that he

doesn't feel

the pain

of the disappointment

or the pretending.

He wonders

if a God

who hears

prayers

doesn't hear

his.

Such a

tough place

to be,

right?

I told him

without sarcasm,

it sounded

like he could

write a psalm.

Those are the

kinds of

questions that

Asaph

starts asking

about God.

Look how they

pile up

in verses

7-9.

Will the

Lord spurn

forever?

Will he

never again

be favorable?

Has his

steadfast love

forever ceased?

Are his

promises at an

end for all

time?

Has God

forgotten to

be gracious?

Has he in

anger shut

up his

compassion?

Asaph has

been where

my friend

is.

Some of us

have asked

some of those

questions,

haven't we?

These are

genuine

questions.

They're

expressing

real doubts.

Aren't you

glad you

can take

your real

doubts to

God that

he actually

wants you

to sing

them and

say them

to him?

But they're

also questions

that point

to their

own answers.

If God

is by nature

favorable in

pouring out

grace, then

he will be

again,

right?

Steadfast love

by definition

is love that

does not

cease.

Promises are

kept by

God.

They don't

end.

So no

way is he

out of

grace or

compassion,

but it

surely does

feel like it

sometimes.

That's what

the psalmist

is saying.

When you're

seeking diligently

and not

finding an

answer, it

feels like

those things

are happening.

I tell you

this because

it's really

important that

we realize

that lament

is not a

formula to

get something

transactionally

or automatically

or immediately

out of God.

Best I can

tell in this

psalm, and I

wrestled hard

trying to see

if I was

missing something,

when things

start to turn

more hopeful

for the

psalmist,

there are

only very,

very slight

changes to

what he is

doing.

I don't

know the

length of

time Asaph

spent stuck

in verses

1-9,

but I know

for Israel

at times it

was generations

long.

Why does it

take so long

for God to

change the

way the

psalmist

feels?

Why so

many sleepless

nights before

finding rest?

Why so

many doubts

before faith

is strengthened?

It doesn't

say.

The picture

the song

paints for

us, though,

is Asaph

continuing to

lament.

Biblically,

he keeps

crying honestly

to God,

remembering

who God

is,

what he has

promised,

and how he

has been

faithful.

The biblical

lament is

needful for

relating to

the biblical

God.

Asaph does

it again.

Verse 10,

appealing to

God's powerful

actions in

history.

Verse 11,

remembering

God's deeds.

Verse 12,

meditating on

God's mighty

deliverance.

He's doing it

again.

You hear it?

And this

time,

his heart

begins to

worship.

To worship

the great

and holy

and incomparable

God who

redeems his

people.

Interestingly,

Asaph doesn't

look back to

an event that

was, in his

own experience,

something that

he lived

through.

That can help

sometimes, but

Asaph,

generations

later,

meditates back

on God's

foundational

act of

gracious

deliverance

of his

people in

the exodus

from Egypt.

That's what

this whole

second half

of the

psalm is

meditating on.

Do you

remember what

develops not

far from

Egypt as

they've come

out?

God's people

quickly become

very fearful

and very

discouraged.

They were

stuck between

an advancing

Egyptian army

whose power

and terror

had ruled

their hearts

for generations.

They're rushing

after them

and on the

other side

is a raging

red sea,

the epitome

of chaos

and uncontrollable

danger.

You want to

talk about a

dark night

of the soul.

They felt it

and Moses

heard about it.

Why in the

world had God

brought them

out of Egypt

just to be

taken right

back?

Or worse,

why would

he think

of making

them feel

like they

were special

to him

when they're

about to

run off a

cliff into

the tumultuous

sea?

Is this

Yahweh worth

following if

this is what

life with him

is like?

We're just

getting started.

And the

psalmist

depicts a

storm way

worse than

an Alabama

summer

thunderstorm.

The whole

earth shook.

And you

know what

happens.

God parts

the Red

Sea.

Moses and

Aaron lead

God's people

through the

sea on dry

ground.

The waves

crash on the

Egyptians and

Moses and

Miriam lead

God's people in

songs of

celebration of

their mighty

God that

sound like

some of

this psalm.

There may

have been,

I suspect

there was,

a more

direct and

brighter and

easier path to

the promised land

from Egypt.

But there

wasn't one that

would have

helped God's

people know

him and his

power and his

faithfulness to

his promises

better than the

path through the

sea.

God's people

are

going to be.

Listen, lament

is not the only

way that we

talk to God.

Aren't you

thankful for

that?

But it is a

way that we

must talk to

the God who

delivers not

just in but

through darkness.

If God's way of

redemption was

through the sea,

then those

delivered would

be those who

lamented all the

way to their

deliverance.

Do you see

that?

There was not

going to be a

moment they

weren't lamenting

until they were

brought all the

way through.

If they had

looked for a

quick fix solution,

they weren't

getting it, but

they did get a

faithful God.

If they had

gone back to

Egypt in order

to miss that

awful dark night

of the soul,

they would have

missed the light

of God who

delivered through

the sea,

wouldn't they?

Some of you,

most of your

words right now

are lament.

You can't find a

lot of other

ones.

If the words of

your heart are

mostly lament,

you may be close

to deliverance

and you are

most likely

very close

to God.

Don't lose

heart,

brothers and

sisters who are

hurting.

off-despairing

William Cooper

wrote in his

song,

God moves in a

mysterious way

his wonders to

perform.

He plants his

footsteps in the

sea and rides

upon the storm.

See, it wasn't

just in the

exodus that God

delivered through

darkness, was it?

God of the

God of the

Red Sea

is the God

of the cross.

When darkness

covered the

earth in the

middle of the

day, when the

whole earth

shook again,

when the storm

of God's wrath

poured down

upon his

son, Jesus

cried out in

lamentation,

my God,

my God,

why have you

forsaken me?

And his

disciples thought,

no, no, no,

this shouldn't

happen.

Why another

false hope

after we've

waited so long?

Is this

Jesus worth

following if

this is what

life with him

is like?

right when

you think

that light

is covered

by darkness,

the light

of the

world is

delivering you

from your

darkness into

his marvelous

light.

Oh, followers

of Jesus, he

is worth

following.

In fact, right

now, he's

making the

greatest statement

ever of his

love for you,

of his provision

for you, of

his meeting

you in your

darkest moment

at your

deepest need.

What's the

point of

this?

Please don't

miss this,

especially if

today you

are hurting

or you're

confused or

you're feeling

abandoned by

a God you

are not even

sure exists.

Being

confused by

God does

not mean

that you're

not also

being rescued

by God.

Double

negative, I'm

going to say

it again.

Being

confused by

God does

not mean

that you're

not also

being rescued

by God.

Pastor Dane

Ortlund says

it this way,

in the Old

Testament, his

way was through

the sea.

In the New

Testament, his

way is through

the cross.

The gracious

provision of

God confounds

us even as

it delivers

us.

If you're

hearing that

truth about

God today,

remembering his

way is through

the sea can

give you hope

when those

hard times

and those

negative feelings

persist, when

those sleepless

nights and

those speechless

days seem to

pile up and

you don't know

how to make

them stop, you

can actually

enjoy a

completely

honest,

desperately

dependent,

at the same

time truly

worshipful

relationship with

God right there

where you are.

you don't even

have to turn

your frown

upside down

first.

You can cry

out to God

again today.

If you don't

have your own

words, he

understands and

you can, like

Jesus on the

cross, borrow

the lament of

the psalmist.

And when you do

that, you can

know that as

far as you feel

from God in

that moment,

you are relating

closely.

He is with

you.

The God who

always hears,

always has

compassion,

always delivers,

he is with

you.

I want us to

lament together

now because for

many of us,

this is

unfamiliar.

It's so

unfamiliar we

don't know what

to say.

When I say,

hey, you can go

home and lament

to God today.

And for

others of us,

it's so familiar

we can't say

anything else and

if we don't

lament, we're not

going to be able

to talk to God.

I'm going to

lead us in

prayer, but I'm

going to leave

some time for

you to pray as

well, more than

once.

And then the

worship team will

start leading us

in a song of

lament that is a

prayer that begins

in despair and

ends in trust of

a God who

delivers through

darkness.

you can join

in with that

song on the

last couple

verses or

whenever your

heart is ready

to do that.

But make it part

of your prayer as

we experience that

lament is something

God gives us in

relationship with

Him.

It's right, it's

good, it's needed

for our hearts.

When we're together

and on our own,

we join me as we

go to God in

prayer.

Our Father in

heaven, we cry

out to you this

morning.

We look around

us and if we're

honest, we wonder

sometimes what you're

up to in this world.

In many ways, it does

not appear to us that

your kingdom is coming

on earth as it is in

heaven.

all around us, a

human life created in

your image to reflect

your image.

It's being devalued and

discarded at every stage,

young and old.

How long, oh God, will we

hear of school shootings?

Where is your peace?

As wars rage, have you

turned a blind eye to

the suffering of the

weak, the oppressed, the

orphans and the

refugees?

Repeatedly in our own

country, the marginalized

seem to be pushed

further out, not

welcomed in to be

valued and cared for

and learned from.

So hear us, Father, as we

lament over the world we

live in.

And Father, we

acknowledge the problems

of the world are all

too present among your

people.

We grieve abusive

leadership.

We mourn for its

victims.

We grieve absent

shepherds and neglected

sheep.

We confess to you that our

churches more often seem

to reflect the divisions of

the world around us than

we do work together for the

sake of your kingdom on the

same team.

Help us, Holy Spirit.

But even when we don't

struggle in these ways, all

over the world your people

are being persecuted for

following you.

Killed for their faith at

rates never before seen.

Have you forgotten your

people whom you called by

your name?

Will you not come to their

rescue?

Oh, God, be their shield

and defender.

Hear us, Father, as we

lament for your people.

Finally, Father, we bemoan

the struggles of our own

hearts and lives in

relationship with you.

Grief and loss and

heartache and depression

and anxiety and fear,

they often drive us away

from you instead of to you.

Father, I admit it doesn't

take a crisis to see my

my life, neglecting your

word, prayer, the God in

whom our souls are to

delight because we're

addicted to devices and

substances and ourselves.

We chase pleasure instead of

chasing people who need your

hope.

Sometimes it's none of these

particular things going on,

but just no matter what we

try, you feel distant.

And we have been there and

felt that and wonder if

we'll never smile and laugh

and rejoice again, if we'll

never love one another well,

if we'll never live with zeal

for you as we once did.

Oh, Jesus, you sympathize with

our weaknesses.

Thank you.

Draw near to us again.

Help us to draw near to you.

Hear us, Father, as we lament

our own struggles.

For more information, visit us

online at southwood.org.