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Have you ever gone through a time when God seemed far away? You still believe. You still pray. You still gather with the people of Messiah’s community. Yet God doesn’t seem to be as close as He used to be. Your prayers aren’t answered. You are discouraged. If so, Psalm 42 was written for you.
Psalm 42 was written by one of the descendants of Korach. Korach was a Levite who led a rebellion against Moses and Aaron, challenging God’s appointed leadership. His judgment was swift: the Earth opened and swallowed Korach along with his household. Yet in Numbers 26 we find this statement: “However, the sons of Korach did not die that day.” That sentence becomes the beginning of a story of redemption.
Generations later, the descendants of Korach became gatekeepers, musicians and worship leaders in Israel. The family once associated with rebellion against God’s house became guardians and worship leaders of God’s house. God is a God of redemption. The failures of previous generations do not determine our future.
The psalm begins with: As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for you, O God. I thirst for God, the living God. When can I go and stand before him? A thirsty deer is not looking for luxury or comfort or entertainment. It’s looking for water. Without water, it will die. That’s the picture this descendant of Korach give us. He is saying, “God, You are not something I want. You are something I need. You are my life. Without You, I will die.”
I thirst for God, the living God. The phrase “the living God” emphasizes that God is alive, unlike the dead idols worshiped by the nations around Israel. He is present and personal and active – not distant or indifferent. He is the source and giver of life. He reigns in Heaven and is able to act on behalf of His people on Earth.
The psalmist’s enemies are asking, “Where is your God?” Yet he reminds himself that his God is not a lifeless idol made of wood or stone. He is the living God. A dead god cannot satisfy spiritual thirst. Only the living God can. The psalmist is saying, “My soul is dying of thirst, and only the God who possesses life in Himself and who gives life to people can satisfy me.”
Many people seek God because they want something from Him – help, guidance, protection, provision or blessing. There is nothing wrong with bringing those needs to the Lord. But the mature believer eventually discovers that God’s greatest gift is not what He gives us. His greatest gift is Himself. Just as a thirsty deer needs water to live, we need the living God. No substitute can satisfy the deepest longing of the human heart. Only God can.
This thirst for the living God leads us to Messiah. At Sukkot, Yeshua stood before the crowds and declared: Anyone who is thirsty may come to me! Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, rivers of living water will flow from his heart. The living God has revealed Himself through His living Son. Those who come to Yeshua will find God and life and be forever satisfied.
I thirst for God, the living God. When can I go and stand before him? For an Israeli under the Sinai Covenant, “going and standing before God” had a specific meaning. Three times each year, Israeli men were commanded to go to Jerusalem, ascend Mount Zion, enter the Temple courts and join God’s people in worship. Three times a year was the minimum – however, a man could go and stand before God as often as he wanted. The psalmist is far from Jerusalem, unable to join in worship at the Temple. His separation from God’s house has intensified his sense of separation from God Himself. That makes him sad.
There are other reasons why he is sad: Day and night I have only tears for food, while my enemies continually taunt me, saying, “Where is this God of yours?” This is poetry describing grief so intense it has affected the normal rhythms of life. He can’t eat. This happened to me once early in my time here in Michigan. There was a split in the congregation. I was so upset that I was barely able to eat anything for three weeks. I lost a lot of weight.
The attack of his enemies is not merely physical or emotional it’s spiritual. They are targeting his faith, in effect saying, “God has abandoned you. He no longer cares about you. If God loves you, why are you suffering?” We face the same attack today. When we are going through a difficult time and God seems distant and our prayers aren’t being answered, it easier to believe the lie that God is not helping us because He does not care about us. If we begin believing that lie, our sadness deepens, discouragement grows and our situation becomes even more difficult.
As if the taunts of his enemies weren’t enough, the psalmist is also upset by memories of better days: My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks amid the sound of a great celebration! He remembers joining the fellowship of a multitude of worshipers as they went to the Temple, the joy, the singing, the celebration. The memory is beautiful – but painful too, because it highlights the contrast between the joy of what once was and the grief of what now is.
Up to this point, he has described his problem. Now he reveals the solution. Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again ‑ my Savior and my God! Notice how the psalmist responds to his feelings of sadness and discouragement. He does not go along with his feelings. He walks by faith not by sight. He walks by faith not by his feelings.
When we are sad, suffering, grieving or discouraged, we can feel like: “God has forgotten me.” “I am all alone.” “Things will never get better.” “There is no hope.” Those feelings are real. They matter. God created our emotions, and He understands them. But feelings are not always reliable interpreters of reality. One of the battles of the spiritual life is learning to distinguish between what we feel and what is true.
The psalmist teaches us that victory over sadness and discouragement begins when we speak the truth to ourselves instead of giving in to our feelings. Think about how we speak to a fellow believer who is discouraged. We do not say, “You’re right. Everything is hopeless.” Instead, we remind him of the truth: God is faithful.
God has helped you before. God’s promises have not changed. This season will not last forever. The Lord is still on His throne.
That is exactly what the psalmist does, except he directs these truths to himself. He feels abandoned, though God has not abandoned him. He feels distant, though God remains near. His emotions are genuine, but they are not the final authority. That’s why he doesn’t say, “Once I feel better, I will trust God.” Instead he declares, “I will put my hope in God!”
His circumstances haven’t changed. He’s still separated from the Temple in Jerusalem. His enemies are still attacking his faith. He’s still grieving. Yet he makes a conscious decision to place his hope in God.
The biblical meaning of “hope” is different from our modern use of the term. Today we say, “I hope it doesn’t rain” – expressing uncertainty – but biblical hope is faith that is connected to the future. Hope means having faith that God will fulfill His promises in the future. The psalmist is not saying, “Maybe God will help me.” He is saying, “I am confident, I have faith that God will help me.”
I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again ‑ my Savior and my God! The psalmist is not praising God because everything is better. Nothing has changed externally, yet he knows his difficulties will not have the final word. God will have the final word. Victory will have the final word. Praise will have the final word.
I will praise him again ‑ my Savior and my God! Notice the language – the language of personal possession: not just “I will praise the Savior and the God of Israel” but “I will praise my Savior and my God.” Fighting discouragement, the psalmist reminds himself: “This God belongs to me, and I belong to Him. He is my Savior. I know He will rescue me, deliver me, give me victory.”
This is the difference between knowing about God and knowing God. This is the difference between having an academic understanding about God and having a close personal relationship with the living God Himself. This is the difference between eternal life and no eternal life.
Can you say, “I have put my hope in God and I will praise Him because He is my Savior and my God?”
The psalmist is not going by his feelings. He is speaking the truth to himself. He is putting his hope in God – but his struggle isn’t over. Now I am deeply discouraged, but I will remember you, even from distant Mount Hermon, the source of the Jordan, from the land of Mount Mizar. Some assume that once they put their faith in God, the struggle should end. It doesn’t always work that way. Mount Hermon is in the north of Israel, its snow‑covered peaks the source of the Jordan River. Mount Mizar is unknown, probably a nearby mountain. What matters is not the location but the distance. The psalmist is far from Jerusalem and the Temple, yet from there he makes a decision to remember God – “I will remember You.” Remembering God is another way of speaking the truth to ourselves.
How do we remember God? We remember God by remembering His character. Circumstances change. They may be good or they may be bad – but God’s character never changes. God is good. God is faithful. God is loving. God keeps His promises. God is sovereign.
We remember God by remembering His past faithfulness. We read the Word of God and see how He was faithful to His people. We reflect on our own lives – on those times when God answered prayer, provided for our needs, protected us, got us through trials. We tell ourselves: The same God who helped me then is with me now.
His battle isn’t over. The psalmist is still struggling, still feeling intense distress: I hear the tumult of the raging seas as your waves and surging tides sweep over me. He feels like he’s drowning, with wave after wave crashing over him. Before he can recover from one trial, another one is starting.
Notice that he refers to his trials as “your waves and surging tides.” He does not attribute his problems only to his enemies. He recognizes God’s sovereignty over every aspect of his life come including his enemies’ attacks and his distance from the place where God is worshiped. He knows that God is in control, in the good and in the bad. He knows that God remains sovereign, using suffering, hardship, trials and difficulties to refine and purify us.
Then the psalmist makes a wonderful statement: But each day the Lord pours his love upon me, and through each night I sing his songs, praying to God who gives me life. His circumstances haven’t changed. His enemies are still taunting him. He is still separated from Jerusalem. He is still wrestling with discouragement. Yet in the midst of his pain he remembers something greater than his circumstances: the Lord’s love. God’s love is not given sparingly or reluctantly. It’s poured out abundantly. Every day, whether the psalmist feels it or not, God loves him with faithful, steadfast love that never fails.
During the day we’re busy. At night, when it’s quiet and we’re alone with our thoughts, fears and worries can intensify, and memories become more painful. Yet instead of letting that time discourage him, the psalmist fills the night with prayers and songs about God. To sing God’s songs means to fill our minds with the truth of who God is: His faithfulness, His promises, His power and His goodness, His love.
Earlier in the psalm the writer expressed his desire to be close to the living God. Now he prays to the God who gives him life. He remind himself that God is the source of his life and has promised to give him eternal life – and his enemies, his circumstances and his feelings can’t take that away. He knows his life is not ultimately in the hands of his enemies, his circumstances or his emotions. His life is in the hands of God.
And yet he continues to struggle: O God my rock,” I cry, “why have you forgotten me? Why must I wander around in grief, oppressed by my enemies?” Their taunts break my bones. They scoff, “Where is this God of yours?” He knows that God is his rock, his source of strength and stability, and yet he feels that God has forgotten him. He knows that God is his rock but he is still wandering around in grief, being oppressed by his enemies. Their taunts are the same as before: “Where is this God of yours?” Their attacks against his faith make him feel like his bones are being broken. Words can wound deeply, especially when they attack our faith – which is the most important thing about us. The most important thing about us is not how much money we make, or how talented or gifted we are, or if we have a good or bad family. The most important thing about each one of us is what we think deep in our heart about God.
The psalm closes with another repetition: Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again, my Savior and my God! This is the second time the psalmist has spoken these words. This teaches us that faith is not a one-time decision. Hope is not a one‑time decision. Trials will return. The attacks of the enemy will return. Discouragement returns. Doubt returns. And every time they return, we must return to the same truth: “I will put my hope in God.”
The lesson of Psalm 42 is this: when God seems distant, when discouragement comes, when the enemy whispers, “Where is your God,” speak the truth to yourself. Remember God. Put your hope in God. Stand firm! If you do, you will praise Him again, your Savior and your God.
Let’s pray:
Heavenly Father, thank You for being the living God, our Rock, our Savior and our God. When our souls are weary and thirsty, bring us close to Yourself and satisfy us with Your presence. When discouragement overwhelms us, when prayers seem unanswered and when the enemy whispers doubts into our hearts, help us remember Your faithfulness, Your promises and Your love. Teach us to speak Your truth to ourselves instead of listening to fear and despair. Remind us of the many ways You have helped us, provided for us and sustained us through every season of life. Fill our days with confidence in Your love and our nights with songs of praise. Strengthen our faith to put our hope in You again and again until the day we rejoice in Your victory and praise You with hearts filled with joy. Amen.