“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” Twice the psalmist asks God this penetrating question in Psalm 42 (42:5a, 11a). And you can sense the despair . . . crushed from the inside out . . . hard even to breath. You feel the agitation . . . the constant churn in the gut . . . an inner commotion that just won’t go away. You kind of know the psalmist is overwhelmed . . . seeking to regain his equilibrium, but unable to . . . wanting to get back “on top of his game,” but barely able to even get “in the game” at all. He likens himself to a deer which longs after flowing streams . . . out of breath, almost out of strength, panting for fresh waters of relief. Such is the psalmist’s soul . . . panting, thirsting for the living God (42:1). He battles within himself as he desperately tries to come up for air . . . as he fights the floods of despair which seek to overwhelm him (42:7) . . . as he seeks to know again the song in the night.

“By day the LORD commands His steadfast love, and at night His song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.” (Psalm 42:8 ESV)

It seems that in times of great trial the child of God needs to remind themselves of great truth. That despite what the circumstance seems to dictate we need to know what the word of God declares.

Though the psalmist candidly admits his condition he also tenaciously clings to his hope. That hope founded solely on the nature of his God . . . anchored in the knowledge that God is an ever present, faithful God . . . that “the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning” (Lam. 3:22-23) . . . that His grace is sufficient and that His power is manifest in weakness (2Cor 12:9) . . . that though weeping may last for a night, joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5). The promises of God steeling the mind against the wave of emotions . . . the unchanging nature of God establishing a bulwark against the tumult of uncontrollable circumstance.

The psalmist affirms that, day by day by day, God commands His steadfast love. That His loving-kindness and mercy, just like the manna of old, is made available each morning and is sufficient for the day . . . and that it will be there again tomorrow. For every “where is God?” of the day, there is a recollection of those “there was God” events and blessings in the past . . . seeding the assurance that the time would come again when he would praise God for deliverance. And so, in the night there is a song.

Oh, to know the song in the night. To lift up a voice of glorious praise amid times of grating pressure. To sing at midnight in prison (Acts 16:25) . . . to know a peace which passes understanding (Php. 4:7) . . . such that I can’t help but lift my feeble voice to him in some melody of exaltation. To lie on my bed at night, exhausted by the day’s struggles, and to know the still small voice of God assuring me that He will never leave me nor forsake . . . and then to respond with whispers of worship.

I’m not looking for trials . . . no desire for a crushed soul . . . but there is something about desperate times that sets up the believer for some of the sweetest encounters with God (Isa. 57:15). Water from flowing streams never tastes so good as when you are absolutely dying of thirst. The daily faithfulness of God is never more valued than on the days when you have no idea of how you’re going to get through the day. And the song sung at night . . . amid the pain . . . despite the prison . . . is some of the sweetest music to leave our lips and ascend to His glorious throne . . .

“Then sings my soul . . . my Savior God to Thee . . . How great Thou art! . . . HOW GREAT THOU ART!”