Commentary - Psalm 38:9-12

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 38 is one of the great penitential psalms, a raw and honest cry from a man crushed by the weight of his own sin and the resulting affliction from God. David is not making excuses. He knows he is sick, and he knows why he is sick. God's arrows are sticking in him (v. 2), and it is because of his sin (v. 3) and his foolishness (v. 5). This psalm is a model for us in how to bring our ugliest messes to God without any varnish. David lays out his physical suffering, his emotional anguish, and the treachery of his friends and enemies. But this is not despair. It is a complaint lodged in the right place, at the throne of grace. He knows that the only one who can deliver him from God's hand is God Himself.

In this section (vv. 9-12), the psalmist turns from describing his physical ailments to the deep sorrows of his soul and the bitter reality of his isolation. His desire and his groaning are not hidden from the Lord. He is utterly spent. And in his moment of greatest weakness, his friends abandon him and his enemies plot against him. This is the biblical alternative to the two extremes we often fall into: the man who is never wrong about anything, and the man who is so introspective he has no backbone. David is a forgiven sinner, but a sinner with backbone. He confesses his sin without reservation, but he also knows that the hostility he faces from men is ultimately because he follows what is good (v. 20).


Outline


Context In Psalms

This psalm is titled "A Psalm of David, to bring to remembrance." This is a psalm designed to make us remember certain foundational truths, particularly when we are in the crucible. It follows Psalm 37, which is a wisdom psalm contrasting the righteous and the wicked, promising that the meek will inherit the land. Now, in Psalm 38, we see a righteous man suffering acutely, reminding us that the path of faith is not a simple, straight line of blessing. The penitential psalms (6, 32, 38, 51, 102, 130, 143) are a canonical gift, teaching God's people how to repent. They provide a script for us when we have sinned and need to find our way back. Psalm 38 is perhaps the most graphic in its description of the physical consequences that can accompany sin, reminding us that our bodies and souls are not disconnected.


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 9 Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You.

David begins this second movement of his complaint with a profound statement of faith. Though he is in the depths, he knows he is not outside of God's view. This is where true prayer begins. It is not about informing God of things He does not know. It is about laying your case before the one who knows it all already. "All my desire" is before Him. This is comprehensive. Every longing, every hope for relief, every desperate wish for things to be different, all of it is an open book to God. There is no pretense here. And his "sighing", that deep, guttural groaning that comes from a place beyond words, is not hidden. God hears the prayers we cannot articulate. This is a great comfort. When you are so low you can only groan, God registers that groan as a prayer. He is not a distant deity who requires polished rhetoric. He is a Father who leans in to hear the faintest sigh of His afflicted child.

v. 10 My heart throbs, my strength forsakes me; And the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me.

Here the psalmist details the utter collapse of his own resources. The physical and the spiritual are intertwined. "My heart throbs" can be translated as "pants" or "palpitates." It is the frantic racing of a heart under extreme stress, a picture of anxiety and physical distress. His strength is gone; the vital force that makes a man a man has left him. He is completely spent. And then, most poignantly, "the light of my eyes...has gone from me." This is more than just failing eyesight. In Hebrew thought, the eyes are the window of the soul's vitality. When the light goes out of the eyes, it means joy is gone, hope is gone, and life itself is fading. David is describing a state of profound depression and physical exhaustion. He is at the end of himself, which is precisely the place where God's grace is designed to meet us.

v. 11 My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; And my kinsmen stand afar off.

To the agony of sickness and sin, another bitter sorrow is added: abandonment. Those who should be closest to him, his "loved ones and my friends," treat him like a leper. They stand "aloof from my plague." The word for plague is the same word used for leprosy. Whether David's ailment was literally leprosy or not, it was something that caused his closest companions to keep their distance. His "kinsmen," his very own family, "stand afar off." This is a profound betrayal. When we are suffering, the presence of those who love us is a balm. But David is denied this. This isolation is a key feature of deep suffering, and it is a taste of the ultimate dereliction. We see here a stark foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus, who was abandoned by His closest disciples in His hour of greatest need. On the cross, He was utterly alone, bearing our plague, so that we would never ultimately be alone.

v. 12 Those who search for my life lay snares for me; And those who seek to do me evil have threatened destruction, And they meditate on deception all day long.

While his friends are standing off, his enemies are moving in. They see his weakness as their opportunity. Those who want him dead ("search for my life") are not passive; they are actively setting traps. Those who want his ruin speak of it openly, threatening "destruction." And their entire enterprise is fueled by deceit. They "meditate on deception all day long." This is their constant preoccupation. The picture is one of relentless, malicious plotting. David is down, and his enemies are circling, ready to kick him. This is an important reality for the believer to grasp. When you are under God's chastening hand for your sin, do not be surprised when the world, the flesh, and the devil seize the opportunity to attack. But notice what David does. He does not complain to his enemies. He does not even complain to his friends. He takes this entire, miserable situation and lays it out before the Lord. This is the path of faith.


Application

This passage is a profound lesson in honest prayer. God is not interested in our religious posturing. He wants us to come to Him as we are, with all our mess. When your heart is palpitating with anxiety and your strength is gone, tell Him. When you feel the light has gone out of your life, tell Him. He already knows, but He wants you to bring it to Him. Confession is not cleaning ourselves up; it is acknowledging the dirt and asking the only one who can to come and clean it up.

We also see the harsh reality of a fallen world. When you are down, some people will abandon you, and others will try to finish you off. This is a hard truth, but a necessary one. Our ultimate confidence cannot be in human relationships, but only in the God who never stands aloof. David's experience points us directly to Christ. Jesus experienced the throbbing heart in Gethsemane, the forsaken strength on the cross, the abandonment by friends, and the snares of His enemies. He endured the ultimate plague for us. Because He did, we can know that even when we are in a place like David, we are not truly alone. Our sighing is not hidden from Him, because He Himself has sighed in the grip of death.

Therefore, when you find yourself in a similar condition, follow David's example. Take your complaint to God. Lay out every detail of your physical pain, your emotional anguish, your relational betrayals, and the attacks of your enemies. Hold nothing back. He can take it. And then, like David, wait for the Lord (v. 15), for He is a God who saves.