Yesterday’s psalm, Ps. 145, is one of David’s greatest hymns of praise. Ps. 13, on the other hand, takes a completely different tone and sits at the other end of the spectrum. David, like so many of us, goes from elation and confidence in God to doubt and fear of God’s absence. When things go wrong, where is God?
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart?
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
and my enemy will say, “I have prevailed”;
my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.
But I trust in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt
bountifully with me.
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?”
You can almost hear the pain in David’s voice. Psalm 13 begins with four piercing and personal questions, all starting with “How long?” How long will you feel hidden from me? How long will this pain last? How long will you stay silent? How long will I feel forgotten?
We don’t know the details, but I’m guessing David wrote this psalm in the middle of the night, eyes open, unable to sleep, and wondering why heaven felt like it had a “Do Not Disturb” sign. Things hit us harder in the night, don’t they?
It’s strangely comforting to realize that even David, a great man of God, wrestled with divine silence. Like us, he also felt the ache of being unheard. There were days when his prayers, like ours, bounced back with nothing but echo.
And yet David kept talking to God. That’s the surprising beauty of Psalm 13. He didn’t abandon prayer when it didn’t “work.” He gave voice to his fears and pain, and kept talking.
That’s faith, not failure.
We often think that faith means always smiling and saying, “God is good,” even when life feels like a mess. But faith is honest … and sometimes being honest means telling God our faith is hanging by a thread. That kind of trust is proof of faith.
David moves from raw anguish to renewed confidence all within six short verses. By the end, he sings, “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing…”
Nothing in his situation has changed — only his focus. He’s still waiting, still hurting, but something shifts in his heart. He remembers God’s love hasn’t changed, and he’s clinging to that.
Sometimes that’s all the faith we can manage — not a victory shout, but a whisper that says, “I still trust you, Lord.”
Maybe you’ve been there: praying for healing that doesn’t come, answers that don’t arrive, peace that feels miles away. You’ve found yourself asking, “How long, Lord?” Psalm 13 gives us permission to keep asking and to be honest. Because faith isn’t pretending; it’s persisting.
Prayer: Lord, sometimes you seem far away, and my prayers echo in the silence. Help me to keep talking to you even when I don’t hear back. Remind me of your steadfast love — the kind that never forgets, never leaves, and never fails. Amen.
