Fog: Psalm 5

Psalm 5
1 Give ear to my words, O Lord;

    consider my groaning.

2 Give attention to the sound of my cry,

    my King and my God,

    for to you do I pray.

3 O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice;

    in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch.

“Another day!” the alarm clock cries with exuberance. We groan in reply and smash its vibrant tones. Off. Another day. The turmoil that was with us last night in the evening shadows are still there. The confusion still swirls like the breaking fog. In the morning, we groan to the Lord. “Consider my groaning, give attention to the sound of my cry”—no words. Too lost and confused for words. Wisdom has left us. But just groaning, crying—the Lord hears even this. He accepts even our wordless groans as a “sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name” (Heb. 13:15), looking to him, voiceless, still in trust despite the heavy mists of bewilderment. The Lord still knows, still considers (thinks, reflects on), and gives attention to what we don’t even know what to say, what to pray for. The Spirit interprets and mouths our prayers (Rom. 8:26-27).

4 For you are not a God who delights in wickedness;

    evil may not dwell with you.

5 The boastful shall not stand before your eyes;

    you hate all evildoers.

6 You destroy those who speak lies;

    the Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful man.

The fog is thick; we feel lost. But we have a guiding light: “You are not a God who delights in wickedness.” This is the character of our God, a holy and upright God. In the fog, a beacon of trust: we know the character of the one to whom we utter our groaning and wait on, truly good and truly pure.

7 But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love,

    will enter your house.

I will bow down toward your holy temple

    in the fear of you.

8 Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness

    because of my enemies;

    make your way straight before me.

And in the fog we are not alone. When wisdom has left us, when nothing seems certain, and we feel alone, we through the abundance of his steadfast love can enter his presence. Perhaps it feels like our groans are not heard and our cries are not considered. But we know the abundance of his love, shown in Christ. In Christ, we can boldly enter the throne room and come before the Father who will not give us a snake when we ask for bread but gives every good and perfect gift (Luke 11; Jas. 1:17; Eph. 3:12).

And in the damp cloud, we do not steer alone. “Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness…make your way straight before me.” A commentary clarified (my paraphrase), “Lord, be right toward me! Lead me in your righteousness, I need leading, and you are good, so lead me! And make your way clear to me—your best way, your straight way, lead me!!!! Make it clear!” Perhaps we feel alone in our fog, as if the onus is all us. And all is confusion. But the Lord is God, King, Master, Shepherd—he has entered into a covenant with us, called us. As such, he has bound himself to guide his people. Lead us, because you do right toward us!

9 For there is no truth in their mouth;

    their inmost self is destruction;

their throat is an open grave;

    they flatter with their tongue.

10 Make them bear their guilt, O God;

    let them fall by their own counsels;

because of the abundance of their transgressions cast them out,

    for they have rebelled against you.

11 But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;

    let them ever sing for joy,

and spread your protection over them,

    that those who love your name may exult in you.

12 For you bless the righteous, O Lord;

    you cover him with favor as with a shield.

The fog thickens, it seems to control. But God is in control even over our enemies, the things that come against us. He can answer the psalmist's cry, "Make them!" Anxiety, decisions, circumstances, our turmoil can seem overwhelming, but the Lord is in control even over those things. And in control for the good of his people; we need have no fear. For God does not make us who trust in him bear our own guilt, doesn’t leave us to our own counsels. Grace! And it is to this God we pray to relieve our anxiety, provide guidance, or bring light into the mist.

“Let them ever sing for joy” seems to be a line for when the sun emerges, after the heavy gloom has dispersed. But the psalmist speaks this even in the midst of enemies and in need of help and protection. The robin and the psalmist still sing in the dark morning fog. Their voices and their eyes are lifted above the low-laying cloud to the sun above. Trust in God, that he still protects, covers, gives refuge, and acts on our behalf. Sing! He will act and use his power for us! This is the nature of our God!

The fog and bewilderment may seem to cover everything, but "spread over," "refuge," "cover"—a picture of being completely covered. Completely covered! We feel lost, but head to toe we are surrounded, protected, covered. Not just protected, as great as that is, but covered with his favor, his delight. The seeping damp chill of confusion seems lighter.

Reading through the verbs of Psalm 5, all the psalmist does (and all we do) is to cry, groan, pray, prepare a sacrifice, enter his temple, bow down, rejoice, sing, exult—we move from coming before him in our peril and anxiety to our responding in trust to him, to what he does on our behalf. The Lord is the active one—giving ear, giving attention, destroying, leading, making straight, making enemies to bear guilt and foiling their counsels, spreading protection, blessing, covering with favor—his movement is from listening to acting. Wisdom may seem lost in the turmoil, the fog may seem deep, but laying our groans before him, we trust an orienting Light.