Thursday, April 10, 2025
Scripture Readings
- Secondary Reading: Psalms 42
Devotional Thought
The sons of Korah, temple singers of Israel, knew what it was to lead multitudes in praise. Yet Psalm 42 finds them far from the courts of the LORD, likely in exile near the headwaters of the Jordan, within sight of Mount Hermon and the little hill called Mizar. The psalmist remembers holy days past—the pilgrim crowds, the voice of joy and praise—and the memory wounds him. His tears have become his meat, and his enemies slice at him with a single taunting question: “Where is thy God?” This is not abstract doubt; it is the ache of a worshipper separated from the place of worship, a singer whose song has been swallowed by grief.
His remedy is startling in its honesty. He does not pretend the sorrow away. He preaches to his own soul: “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? … hope thou in God.” Twice in the psalm he turns on himself with that question, refusing to let despair have the final word even while it presses down. He describes the sorrow as “deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts”—as though the crashing waters of the upper Jordan were a voice answering the deep waters of his own grief. Yet even there he clings to a hope: “The LORD will command his lovingkindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me.”
We know this landscape. April has its own Hermons—the anniversary of a loss, a diagnosis, a prodigal child, a prayer that has gone unanswered through many nights. The world asks its mocking question, and our own hearts echo it. But notice the psalmist’s turn: “therefore will I remember thee.” When he cannot feel God’s presence, he remembers God’s faithfulness. And he names God “my rock” and “the health of my countenance” even while his face is streaked with tears. The longing itself—”as the hart panteth after the water brooks”—is evidence of a thirst that God Himself planted, and He does not mock the thirst He creates.
Perhaps today your soul is cast down. The psalm does not scold you for it; it hands you a song to sing in the dark. The same sons of Korah who wrote this psalm also wrote, generations of worship later, “As the hart panteth.” Their lament became Scripture, sung by the very congregation they mourned. Your tears, offered honestly to God, may become someone else’s hope. Hope thou in God—for you shall yet praise Him.
Reflection
- When your soul is “cast down,” do you preach hope to your own heart as the psalmist does, or do you let the taunt “Where is thy God?” go unanswered?
- What past mercies can you “remember” today—like the psalmist remembering the house of God—to anchor your hope while you wait for the living God to appear?
Prayer
O God, our Rock and the health of our countenance, our souls thirst for You as the hart pants for the water brooks. In the night seasons, when deep calls unto deep and Your waves pass over us, command Your lovingkindness in the daytime and give us a song in the night. We remember You from whatever Jordan we walk beside, and we ask: when shall we come and appear before You? Do not let the enemy’s daily reproach silence our hope. We will yet praise You, for You are our God. Amen.
Psalm Verse
Psalms 42:1 — “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.”