God’s goodness

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -34

/ taethne

A Devotional on Psalm 34: Tasting the Goodness of God

“I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.” (Psalm 34:1, ESV)

As I sit with Psalm 34, David’s words crash over me like a wave, pulling me into the depths of God’s sovereign grace. This isn’t just a song; it’s a battle cry of a soul pursued, delivered, and utterly transformed by the unrelenting goodness of God. David, hunted by enemies, hounded by his own sin, doesn’t offer polished platitudes. He pours out raw, fervent praise from a heart that’s tasted the Lord’s mercy and found it sweeter than honey.

This psalm sings of God’s providence, His electing love, and the unshakable truth that He is the author of our deliverance. “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (v. 8). I’m struck by this invitation—not to merely observe God’s goodness but to taste it, to let it linger on the tongue of my soul. It’s personal. It’s intimate. It’s the kind of grace that reaches into the muck of my rebellion, plucks me from despair, and sets my feet on the Rock.

I think of my own life—moments when fear gripped me like a vice, when shame whispered I was too far gone. Yet, like David, I’ve seen God’s hand move. “I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears” (v. 4). This isn’t because I mustered enough faith or cleaned myself up first. No, it’s because God, in His sovereign mercy, chose to seek me before I sought Him. The doctrine of election hums through this psalm like a heartbeat: God’s deliverance isn’t random; it’s rooted in His eternal purpose to save His own.

David’s vivid imagery pulls me in further. “The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them” (v. 7). Picture it—a celestial army, swords drawn, guarding you in the dead of night. This is no fairy tale; it’s the reality of God’s covenant faithfulness. He doesn’t just protect; He surrounds. He doesn’t just save; He encamps. For those chosen in Christ, there’s no moment unguarded, no trial unwatched. Even when I stumble, “the LORD upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down” (v. 14). My weakness isn’t my defeat; it’s the stage for His strength.

Yet, this psalm isn’t a promise of a pain-free life. David acknowledges the brokenhearted, the crushed in spirit (v. 18). I’ve been there—heart shattered, spirit gasping. But here’s the anchor: “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” God’s nearness isn’t a distant nod; it’s the warm embrace of a Father who runs to His child. In Christ, He’s already bridged the chasm my sin created. He’s near because He’s mine, and I’m His.

As a believer, I see mankind’s depravity woven through this psalm—not as despair but as the backdrop for grace. “The face of the LORD is against those who do evil” (v. 16), but for those who cry out, who fear Him, who trust in His Son, there’s redemption (v. 22). My righteousness isn’t my own; it’s Christ’s, imputed to me by faith. David’s confidence—“none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned”—points straight to the cross, where Jesus bore the condemnation I deserved.

So, what do I do with this? I bless the Lord, not just when life sparkles but when it stings. I praise Him because His goodness doesn’t waver with my circumstances. I taste His grace in the Word, in prayer, in the sacraments—reminders of His covenant love. And I run to Him, my refuge, knowing He’s already running toward me.

Prayer:

Sovereign Lord, Your goodness overwhelms me. Thank You for choosing me, delivering me, and encamping around me. When I’m broken, You’re near; when I’m weak, You uphold. Teach me to taste Your grace daily, to bless You in every season, and to rest in the refuge of Your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Further Exercise:

Find and sing the lyrics of 10,000 Reasons (https://youtu.be/DXDGE_lRI0E) and worship God no matter whether your life is upside down or rightside up. Let the truth of God’s unfailing love wash over you.

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -33

/ taethne

A Devotion on Psalm 33: A Song of the Heart

Imagine standing on a windswept hill at dawn, the sky ablaze with hues of amber and rose, as if God Himself is painting the heavens with a brush dipped in glory. The world feels alive—grasses swaying like a choir, birds weaving melodies into the air, and the distant rumble of the sea echoing like a heartbeat. This is the scene Psalm 33 invites us into: a vibrant call to worship, a reminder that the Creator’s handiwork surrounds us, and His steadfast love fills every corner of our lives.

“Sing joyfully to the Lord, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him” (Psalm 33:1). I picture myself here, not just reading these words but feeling them. My heart, sometimes heavy with worries—bills piling up, relationships fraying, or the quiet ache of uncertainty—finds a spark of joy in this command. It’s as if God is saying, “Lift your eyes, my child. Look at the world I’ve made. Let it teach you to sing.” So, I imagine picking up a guitar, my fingers fumbling over the strings, offering a shaky but earnest song to the One who never falters.

The psalmist goes on: “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth” (v. 6). I think of the nights I’ve stood under a canopy of stars, each one a pinpoint of light, like a promise God whispered into the dark. Those stars weren’t just flung into place; they were spoken into being. And if God’s word can craft galaxies, surely it can speak peace into my chaos. I recall a moment last year when anxiety gripped me—my job felt unsteady, my plans unclear. Yet, reading this, I’m reminded that the same God who breathed out constellations knows my name and holds my future.

“For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm” (v. 9). This verse feels like a rock under my feet. I see a stormy sea, waves crashing like doubts, threatening to pull me under. But God’s command is stronger than the storm. I think of times I’ve felt unsteady—when a friend’s betrayal stung or when grief left me hollow. Yet, God’s word stands firm, a lighthouse cutting through the fog, guiding me back to hope.

The psalm shifts to God’s sovereignty: “The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever” (vv. 10–11). I imagine a grand chessboard, where human schemes move like pawns, ambitious but fragile. God, the master player, sees every move before it’s made. I confess, I’ve made my own plans—career goals, dreams of a perfect life—only to watch them unravel. Yet, I’m learning to trust His plans instead. His plans, unlike mine, don’t waver.

And then, the heartbeat of the psalm: “But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love” (v. 18). I picture God’s eyes, warm and steady, like a father watching his child take their first steps. He sees me—not just my successes but my stumbles, my quiet tears, my unspoken fears. His unfailing love feels like a river, steady and deep, carrying me through dry seasons. I remember a night of prayer, feeling alone, yet sensing His presence like a warm hand on my shoulder, whispering, “I’m here.”

As the psalm closes, it’s a prayer: “May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you” (v. 22). I make this my prayer today, standing on that hill in my mind, the wind carrying my words heavenward. I see my life—imperfect, messy, but held by a God who paints skies and calms seas. I choose to hope, to sing, to trust.

Reflection:

Take a moment to step outside or look out a window. Notice one piece of creation—a tree, a cloud, a star. Let it remind you of God’s power and love. Write or speak a one-sentence prayer, offering your own song of trust to Him.