This is what it is like in the dark times:
Sorrow is overwhelming me. I find myself like David in Psalm 38, “my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me”.
I’m a filthy disgusting wreck. Worthless to God. And worthless to people. Every breath that I take is offensive to a holy God. My every word and deed is a stench to his nostrils.
And so I pray Psalm 38. It’s my Psalm because I feel just like David: mourning all day, feeble, crushed, and alone. I’ve been rendered mute and deaf. I’m too down-trodden to speak and too raw to hear words of comfort or rebuke. So, Psalm 38 is my prayer.
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Ask me to name a specific sin that has made me like David in Psalm 38.
I can name only a few. A couple of vague things. Things that I’m broken over, that I abhor, but that I’m fighting. Nothing that isn’t the type of stuff all mankind struggles with.
Truth be told I don’t really know why the Lord has sunk his arrows in me. I’ve repented. I want holiness. 1 John 1:9 tells me that if I confess my sin he is faithful and just to cleanse me of all unrighteousness. You’d think that would mean that I can’t pray Psalm 38 anymore.
But that is what depression does to my mind and heart.
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A recent study shows that prayer is helpful to the anxious only if their view is that God is gracious and loving.
That’s a massive problem because when anxiety and depression rock my soul I never view God as gracious and loving. Psalm 38 becomes my prayer whether I’ve committed the sin of David or not. It’s my prayer because I feel like I’ve committed the unpardonable sin and the Lord has turned his back upon me forever.
Prayer is difficult in these times. It’s difficult because when I approach the Lord I’m not approaching a throne of grace. I’m coming before Him to get yelled at again and reminded of all the terrible things I’ve done—or worse yet—that at the very core of my being I’m deeply unacceptable to the Lord.
So what do I do? Do I just give up praying? If it isn’t helpful unless my view of God is gracious and loving—and if prayer only further distorts my view of God and self—then what in the world am I gaining by praying?
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It is here that I disagree with the findings of that study. It is worded as if God only exists in our conception. But God transcends my depressive thoughts.
Sure it stinks when I come before him with a heart that is barely believing, a heart that can’t grab hold of 1 John 1:9 and believe it for myself. But God is bigger than my moments of unbelief. That is why I still come to him. Because in those moments when I’m praying Psalm 38 (even if it doesn’t apply) the Lord on occasion breaks through and makes himself known.
Psalm 103 floored me again the other day. It floored me because God in his grace helped me to see how he really views me and to see Him afresh, as a gracious and merciful God.
Prayer is helpful even when our thoughts of God are jacked up simply because the gospel is true. When we cry out to God—even with hearts tinged with unbelief, depressive thoughts, and the whole lot—he answers. It may not make me feel better in the moment in which I pray. But God hears and God answers.
David says, “But for you, O LORD, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer”. That is our hope whether we are praying Psalm 38 for actual known sins or we are making Psalm 38 ours because our hearts are believing the lies of depression.
That’s why you keep praying…even if prayer might make anxiety worse.
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