The Book of Psalms

Word Study

"what time," Hebrew yom (יוֹם), literally "the day" I am afraid. Do not rush past this small, honest word. David does not say, "Because I trust God, I am never afraid," but "on the day fear grips me, that is precisely when I will lean on God."

"afraid," ira (אִירָא). David makes no pretence of being fearless; he admits the fear outright. Faith here is not the absence of fear but the answer to it, and the fear itself becomes the occasion for trusting.

"trust," evtach (אֶבְטָח), lean my weight on. In the same breath as the confession comes the decision: "What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee." The word is not of a feeling but of resting one's whole weight on another.

"praise his word," ahallel devaro (אֲהַלֵּל דְּבָרוֹ). Watch what the trust lays hold of: not a feeling, but "his word", God's promise. When the heart is shaking, David does not search inside himself for calm; he takes hold of something outside himself and praises it.

"flesh," basar (בָּשָׂר), mortal man in his weakness. The conclusion follows: "I will not fear what flesh can do", for the enemy, however fierce, is only flesh, mortal and weak. By verse 11 the same refrain will have firmed into, "I will not be afraid what man can do unto me."

Explanation

Do not rush past the small, honest word "what time." David does not say, "Because I trust God, I am never afraid." He says, "What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee", that is, "on the day fear grips me, that is precisely when I will lean on God." This is one of the most freeing truths in the Psalms: faith is not the absence of fear but the answer to it. The brave man of faith is not the one who feels no terror, he felt plenty, trapped in an enemy city, but the one who, feeling it, turns and trusts. Fear is not the opposite of faith; it is the occasion for it. And watch what the trust lays hold of: not a feeling, but "his word." When the heart is shaking, David does not go searching inside himself for calm; he takes hold of a promise outside himself, God's word, and praises it. Faith is only as steady as the thing it rests on, and a promise of God is steadier than any nerve. Then follow the psalm across its two refrains and you will see where trusting-while-afraid leads. Here in verse 4 he is still in the fight: "I will not fear what flesh can do." By verse 11 the sentence has firmed into, "I will not be afraid what man can do." The fear he began by confessing has been talked down, verse by verse, into fearlessness, not because the danger changed, but because he kept choosing to trust.

Gospel Focus

"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee", this is the walk of faith the gospel makes possible, for the word we trust has come to us in a Person, and the fear of "what flesh can do" is answered by the Lord Jesus Christ. He spoke David's very principle to His own disciples: "Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul" (Matthew 10:28); flesh can do only so much, and no more. And He gives us a surer word than David had to trust, for "the Word was made flesh" (John 1:14), and all God's promises "in him are yea, and in him Amen" (2 Corinthians 1:20). Because Christ has conquered death, the worst that flesh can do to the believer has lost its sting, "O death, where is thy sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:55), so we may say with fuller confidence than David, "The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me" (Hebrews 13:6). Faith in Christ does not mean we never tremble; it means that when we tremble, we turn to Him and trust His word. So on the day fear grips you, do what David did: take hold of the promise of God in Jesus, and lean your whole weight there. What time you are afraid, trust in Him.

Word Study

"tellest," Hebrew saphar (סָפַר), count, number, recount. This is one of the tenderest verses in all Scripture, and it opens with a counting word. "Thou tellest my wanderings" -- God keeps a tally of every weary step and sleepless move, as a shepherd counts his sheep.

"my wanderings," nodi (נֹדִי), my tossings to and fro, my homeless flittings. David has been driven from place to place, a homeless fugitive. Not one of his restless flittings has escaped God's notice.

"tears," dim'ati (דִּמְעָתִי). The tears David thought fell unnoticed to the ground are the very thing he asks God to keep. Nothing he weeps is wasted before God.

"thy bottle," no'dekha (נֹאדֶךָ), thy wineskin, leather flask. In the ancient world a wineskin held what was valuable, wine, oil, precious liquid. David asks God to treat his tears that way, to collect and keep them as treasure, not sweep them away as worthless water. Notice the near-echo in Hebrew: his "wanderings" (nod) and God's "bottle" (no'd) sound almost the same, as if God turns the very wanderings into something bottled and kept.

"thy book," siphratekha (סִפְרָתֶךָ), thy record, scroll. The third image: what God counts and keeps, God also writes down. "Are they not in thy book?" -- all recorded, kept on permanent record, none forgotten.

Explanation

Three images are stacked in this one verse, and each says the same astonishing thing from a different angle: God does not overlook a single one of His child's sorrows. First, "Thou tellest my wanderings", the word means to count, to number. David has been driven from place to place, a homeless fugitive, and he pictures God keeping a tally of every weary step and sleepless move, as a shepherd counts his sheep. Not one of his restless flittings has escaped God's notice. Second, and most beautiful, "put thou my tears into thy bottle." In the ancient world a wineskin or flask held what was valuable, wine, oil, precious liquid. David asks God to treat his tears that way, to collect and keep them as treasure, not sweep them away as worthless water. Think of what that means: the tears you thought fell unnoticed to the ground, God stoops to gather and store, because to Him they are precious. Third, "are they not in thy book?", written down, kept on permanent record. And there is a delicate wordplay under it all: the Hebrew for "wanderings" (nod) and for "bottle" (no'd) are near twins in sound, as if to hint that God turns the very wanderings into something bottled and kept. So the sufferer who feels his griefs are unseen and pointless is told the opposite: every wandering counted, every tear bottled, every sorrow written in the book. Nothing you weep is wasted before God.

Gospel Focus

"Put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?", the God who treasures His people's tears has drawn near in Jesus Christ, who Himself wept and who will one day wipe every tear away. Our Saviour is no stranger to the bottle of tears, for "Jesus wept" (John 11:35) at the grave of a friend, and was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief" (Isaiah 53:3); the God who counts our tears has shed His own. Because He cares for us so intimately, the very hairs of our head are numbered (Matthew 10:30), and not a sparrow falls unnoticed; how much more are our tears kept. Nothing the believer suffers is forgotten or wasted, for God works even "all things together for good to them that love" Him (Romans 8:28), and our "light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" (2 Corinthians 4:17). And the story ends with the bottle emptied and the book closed on sorrow, for "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying" (Revelation 21:4). So weep, if you must, before a God who bottles your tears; not one of them falls to the ground unseen, and in Christ every one will be answered with joy.

Word Study

"trust," Hebrew batachti (בָּטַחְתִּי). The psalm's refrain returns, firmer now, and the verb has moved into the completed past: "In God have I put my trust." What was a resolve in verse 3 is now a settled act.

"not be afraid," lo ira (לֹא אִירָא). "I will not be afraid what man can do unto me." The fear David began by confessing has been talked down, verse by verse, into fearlessness, not because the danger changed but because he kept choosing to trust.

"vows," nedarekha (נְדָרֶיךָ). The vows made in the hour of trouble are not forgotten once the trouble passes. David counts them as a debt of praise still resting on him: "Thy vows are upon me, O God."

"delivered," hitzalta (הִצַּלְתָּ). He looks back at a settled fact: "thou hast delivered my soul from death." The rescue is behind him, accomplished, and it becomes the ground of everything he asks next.

"from falling," middechi (מִדֶּחִי), from stumbling. From that past mercy he argues forward with a question that expects the answer yes: "wilt not thou deliver my feet from falling?" The God who did the greater thing, saving him from death itself, will surely do the lesser and keep his feet steady along the way.

"light of the living," or ha-chayyim (אוֹר הַחַיִּים). See the goal David has in view, and how modest it is. Not a throne or a triumph, but "that I may walk before God in the light of the living", ordinary daily walking in God's presence, in the daylight, among the living rather than the dead.

Explanation

Notice how David reasons from what God has done to what God will do, for it is the very logic of confident faith. He looks back at a settled fact: "thou hast delivered my soul from death", the rescue is behind him, accomplished. Then he argues forward from it with a question that expects the answer yes: "wilt not thou deliver my feet from falling?" The God who did the greater thing, saving him from death itself, will surely do the lesser, keeping his feet from stumbling along the way. Faith is often just this kind of holy arithmetic: taking a past mercy and reasoning that the God who gave it will not abandon the work He began. And see the goal David has in view, for it is lovely and modest. He does not ask for a throne or a triumph; he asks "that I may walk before God in the light of the living." After the darkness of the enemy city and the shadow of death, all he wants is to walk, ordinary, daily walking, in God's presence and in the light, among the living rather than the dead. That is the aim of every deliverance: not merely to escape death, but to live the rescued life before God, in the daylight of His favour. The psalm that began "what time I am afraid" ends with a man walking free in the light, still trusting, no longer afraid.

Gospel Focus

"Thou hast delivered my soul from death... that I may walk before God in the light of the living", this is the believer's life in Jesus Christ, delivered from death to walk in the light. The past-tense deliverance David rested on is ours in full, for Christ "hath delivered us from the power of darkness" (Colossians 1:13) and abolished death, bringing "life and immortality to light through the gospel" (2 Timothy 1:10). And the confidence that God will "deliver my feet from falling" is answered in Him who is "able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory" (Jude 24). The goal, to "walk before God in the light of the living," is exactly the gospel's call, for Jesus is "the light of the world," and "he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life" (John 8:12); and we are summoned to "walk in the light, as he is in the light" (1 John 1:7). The Lord who saved our soul from death keeps our feet from falling and sets us walking in His presence, in the daylight of His favour, among the living for ever. Put your trust in God through Christ, render Him your praise, and walk on in the light of the living.