Talking Yourself Into Faith
“In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to my soul, ‘Flee like a bird to your mountain’ ” (Psalm 11:1, ESV).
Like many of the Psalms, the eleventh finds David up to his neck in trouble, facing the temptation to desert his post and forsake his God. We don’t know whether this deceiving voice comes from a well-meaning friend, a mocking enemy, or perhaps even from within his own heart. Whatever the case, it pleads a plausible case: your enemies are unprincipled (Psa. 11:2a, “Behold the wicked bend the bow!”), your life is unstable (Psa. 11.3a “When the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?”), and to cap it all off, the sniper is invisible, and the danger is imminent (“The bow is bent, the arrow is ready, and the shooter hides in the darkness” (v. 2b, c). Your only option, the voice of doubt says, is to run as far and as fast as you can (v. 1).
Sometimes it’s right to run and hide. In this instance, such an action would represent a turning away from God, the psalmist’s refuge, “In the Lord I take refuge; how can you say to my soul, flee like a bird to your mountain.”
If you look again at these first three verses, you will notice that the voice of doubt speaks only of David’s danger; however, it says nothing about his God. This is always the case with unbelief as it would have you view your trouble through the godless lens of no theology or a bad one. Unbelief wants you to look at your situation as if you and it were the only reality. It never factors God into the equation, or if it does, the God it sees is too cold to care or too far off to help.
David remedies this immediately, reminding himself of God’s throne, His eye, and His character:
The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven; his eyes see, his eyelids test the children of man. The Lord tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence. Let him rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup. For the Lord is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face. (Psalm 11:4–7, ESV)
What a difference this makes! Somewhere, Someone is in control of this mess. The foundations aren’t really disintegrating. My situation may feel chaotic, but it’s not. Furthermore, somewhere, Someone is watching. God sees me. I am not alone, and I have not fallen off His heavenly radar screen. He has “... enclosed me behind and before and laid His hand on me … His thoughts toward me are more than can be numbered” (Psa. 139: 5, 17) and they are all thoughts of lovingkindness, care, and a concern that keeps my going out and my coming in. Lastly, somewhere, Someone has promised to take care of the injustice in this world. God is not only in control, but He is also fiercely just and ferociously fair, too principled to allow an unrequited wrong to echo throughout eternity. Sometimes, this thought alone keeps the soul from spiraling into bitterness.
When trouble strikes you, how do you respond? Do you begin your thinking by starting with God or with your trouble? Understand that without God, all our trials and tribulations will be the wrong size and shape. As you lean into life this weekend, in sunshine or in shadow, either God’s presence and loving promises will make your troubles look small, or your focus on your troubles will make God look small. It’s not enough to have a good theology in our heads. Rather, sometimes we have to talk ourselves into practicing good theology in our hearts, as well. To do that, we must never allow the poisonous voice of unbelief to go unchallenged. As the American hymnist Babcock penned over one hundred years ago, “For though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.” Amen!