Through The Midst of Trouble

Psalm 138:7 (ESV) … “Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me.”

If I am walking there now, or shall be doing so in years to come, I have no cause for fear; for God is with me and will give me new life. When we are somewhat in trouble it is bad enough, but it is worse to penetrate into the center of that dark continent and traverse its midst: yet in such a case the believer makes progress, for he walks; he keeps to a quiet pace, for he does no more than walk; and he is not without the best of company, for his God is near to pour fresh life into him. It is a happy circumstance that, if God be away at any other time, yet he is pledged to be with us in trying hours: “when thou passest through the rivers I will be with thee.” He is in a blessed condition who can confidently use the language of David,—“thou wilt revive me.” He shall not make his boast of God in vain: he shall be kept alive, and made more alive than ever.

How often has the Lord quickened us by our sorrows! Are they not his readiest means of exciting to fulness of energy the holy life which dwells within us? If we receive reviving, we need not regret affliction. When God revives us, trouble will never harm us. “Thou shall stretch forth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand shall save me.” This is the fact which would revive fainting David. Our foes fall when the Lord comes to deal with them; he makes short work of the enemies of his people; with one hand he routs them. His wrath soon quenches their wrath; his hand stays their hand. Adversaries may be many, and malicious, and mighty; but our glorious Defender has only to stretch out his arm and their armies vanish. The sweet singer rehearses his assurance of salvation and sings of it in the ears of the Lord, addressing him with this confident language. He will be saved, saved dexterously, decidedly, divinely; he has no doubt about it. God’s right hand cannot forget its cunning; Jerusalem is his chief joy, and he will defend his own elect.[1]

[1] Spurgeon, C. H. (n.d.). The treasury of David: Psalms 120-150 (Vol. 6, p. 246). London; Edinburgh; New York: Marshall Brothers.