Psalm 42:5-8

Preaching to Yourself Text: Psalm 42:5-8

Introduction: The Civil War Within

Every Christian is the location of a civil war. Our modern therapeutic age wants to treat this internal conflict as a malfunction, a disorder to be medicated into silence. The world tells you that if you are disturbed within, it is because your brain chemistry is misaligned, or your past trauma has not been properly processed, or you lack sufficient self-esteem. The solution, therefore, is to look inward for affirmation, or outward for a pill. But the psalmist here demonstrates a radically different, and profoundly biblical, approach. He acknowledges the turmoil, he gives it a voice, but he does not give it the steering wheel.

The Christian life is not a life free from internal disturbance. It is a life in which that disturbance is rightly governed. The conflict is between the flesh and the Spirit, between what you feel and what you know, between the roaring chaos of circumstances and the unshakeable reality of God's promises. The psalmist here is not engaged in quiet introspection. He is engaged in a fierce interrogation of his own soul. He is preaching to himself. He is reminding his soul of the objective, external, immovable truth of who God is, regardless of the internal, subjective, emotional squall he is experiencing. This is not denial; it is defiance. It is the defiance of faith against the tyranny of feelings.

We are in a generation that has made an idol of authenticity, which usually means being governed by whatever emotion happens to be shouting the loudest at the moment. But biblical authenticity is not about being true to your fickle feelings; it is about being true to God's fixed reality. This psalm teaches us the essential Christian discipline of self-exhortation. It teaches us to grab our own souls by the lapels, look them squarely in the eye, and tell them to hope in God. This is the only sane response to a world that offers a thousand reasons for despair.


The Text

Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? Wait for God, for I shall still praise Him, For the salvation of His presence. O my God, my soul is in despair within me; Therefore I remember You from the land of the Jordan And the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me. By day, Yahweh will command His lovingkindness; And by night, His song will be with me, A prayer to the God of my life.
(Psalm 42:5-8 LSB)

The Soul's Interrogation (v. 5)

The psalmist begins by turning inward, not to listen, but to command.

"Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why are you disturbed within me? Wait for God, for I shall still praise Him, For the salvation of His presence." (Psalm 42:5)

Notice the structure here. He asks two sharp questions and then issues two firm commands. First, the questions: "Why are you in despair? Why are you disturbed?" This is not a request for information. He knows why. He is surrounded by enemies, exiled from the house of God, and taunted relentlessly. Rather, this is a rhetorical challenge. He is cross-examining his own soul, demanding that it justify its despair in the face of who God is. He is forcing his feelings into the courtroom of faith to be judged by the truth. He is saying, "Soul, given what we know about God, your current state of panic is irrational. It is insubordinate."

This is the opposite of the world's counsel, which is to "validate your feelings." The Bible teaches us to evaluate our feelings. Feelings are real, but they are not reliable. They are often liars. Faith does not deny the existence of despair; it denies its right to rule.

After the interrogation, he issues the commands. First, "Wait for God." The Hebrew word for "wait" here is not passive resignation. It is not sitting around, twiddling your thumbs. It means to hope actively, to look expectantly. It is the posture of a watchman on the wall, scanning the horizon for the first light of dawn. Biblical hope is not a flimsy wish; it is a confident expectation based on the character and promises of God. It is a settled conviction that God will act.

Second, he resolves, "for I shall still praise Him." This is a declaration of future certainty. He is not saying, "I feel like praising Him now." He is saying, "Regardless of how I feel now, a time is coming when I will praise Him again." This praise is tethered to an objective reality: "the salvation of His presence." Literally, "the salvations of His face." The ultimate deliverance is not a change in circumstances, but the unhindered presence of God. To see His face is salvation. The psalmist preaches this future reality to his present despair.


The Pivot of Remembrance (v. 6)

Having commanded his soul, he now directs its attention away from the problem and toward the God of the covenant.

"O my God, my soul is in despair within me; Therefore I remember You from the land of the Jordan And the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar." (Psalm 42:6)

He does not deny his condition. He states it plainly to God: "my soul is in despair within me." But then comes the great pivot of faith, marked by the word "Therefore." Because my soul is in despair, what is the remedy? "Therefore I remember You." The cure for introspection is not more introspection; it is God-ward recollection. When you are sinking in the mire of your own feelings, the solution is not to analyze the mud. The solution is to look up.

And what does he remember? He remembers God from specific, geographical places. "From the land of the Jordan and the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar." These are places where he has seen God's faithfulness in the past. He is anchoring his soul to historical fact. He is building his hope not on a feeling, but on a track record. This is the biblical pattern. When you are in the dark, you must remember what God did in the light. You must preach your history of His faithfulness to your present fear. This is why we have the Scriptures, so that we can remember God's mighty acts on behalf of His people from the Jordan, from the Red Sea, and ultimately, from the empty tomb.


The Deluge of Grace (v. 7)

The psalmist then uses a powerful, terrifying image to describe his affliction. But he frames it in a remarkable way.

"Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me." (Psalm 42:7)

This is the language of utter inundation. He feels like he is drowning. "Deep calls to deep" suggests a relentless, overwhelming succession of troubles. It is the chaos of the primordial deep from Genesis 1, a flood of affliction. But notice the possessive pronoun. They are "Your waterfalls," "Your breakers," and "Your waves." This is the crucial confession of faith. The chaos is not random. The flood is not meaningless. It is God's flood. The waves that are crashing over him are waves of divine, sovereign permission.

This is a terrifying thought, but it is also the bedrock of all comfort. If the waves are God's, then they are measured. If the flood is God's, then He has an ark. If the breakers are His, then He can command them to be still. The psalmist is not a victim of blind, impersonal fate. He is in the hands of his covenant God, even when those hands are allowing the waters to overwhelm him. This is the faith of Job, who could say, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." It is the recognition that even the most chaotic circumstances are instruments in the hands of a sovereign God who is working all things for the good of those who love Him.


The Covenant Certainty (v. 8)

From the depths of the flood, the psalmist rises to a magnificent declaration of God's covenant faithfulness.

"By day, Yahweh will command His lovingkindness; And by night, His song will be with me, A prayer to the God of my life." (Psalm 42:8)

This is not a wish; it is a statement of fact. "Yahweh will command His lovingkindness." The word for lovingkindness is that great covenant word, hesed. It is steadfast, loyal, unconditional, covenant-keeping love. It is a love that is not dependent on our performance or our feelings. And God does not merely offer it; He commands it. It is a sovereign decree. Just as He commanded light to shine out of darkness, He commands His hesed to find its object. It will arrive, by divine appointment, "by day."

And what about the darkness? "And by night, His song will be with me." When the darkness falls, and the fears creep in, God provides a song. He gives songs in the night (Job 35:10). This song is a divine provision, a gift of grace that allows the beleaguered saint to respond. And what is the content of that song? It is "A prayer to the God of my life."

Notice the glorious conclusion. He began by interrogating his soul. He has ended by clinging to the God of his life. He has moved from the unstable ground of his own heart to the unshakeable rock of God's covenant character. The prayer, born from the song God provides, is directed to the one who is the very source and sustainer of his existence. This is the gospel logic. Even our ability to cry out to God in the night is a gift, prompted by His song, sustained by His life, and guaranteed by His hesed.


Conclusion: Preach the Gospel to Your Soul

This psalm is a master class in applied theology. It shows us how to fight the good fight of faith when the battle is raging within our own souls. The world offers two dead ends: suppress your feelings with distractions, or enthrone your feelings as your god. The Bible offers a third way: confront your feelings with the truth.

Your soul will despair. Your heart will be disturbed. The waves and breakers will roll over you. Do not be surprised by this. But when it happens, you must learn to preach to yourself. You must ask your soul why it is despairing in the light of the empty tomb. You must command it to hope in the God who has made unbreakable promises. You must force it to remember God's track record of faithfulness, from the Jordan to the cross.

You must confess that the very waves that threaten to undo you are His waves, and that He is sovereign over them. And you must cling, with everything you have, to the objective, commanded, covenantal reality of His hesed. He will send it by day. He will give you a song in the night. This is not positive thinking. This is leaning your entire weight on the character of God. This is how you fight. This is how you endure. And this is how, in the end, you will praise Him again as the salvation of your face, and your God.