The Healing Mercy of God

There are Psalms which lift the heart immediately into praise, and there are Psalms which lead us through darker chambers of the soul. Psalm 38 belongs to the latter. It is the prayer of a man who has become painfully conscious of his sin, who feels the chastening hand of God, and who can find no relief until he casts himself entirely upon the mercy of the Lord.

David does not minimise his condition. He does not excuse himself, blame circumstances, or point to the faults of others. He knows that something is wrong, and he knows where the trouble began. His sin has disturbed his fellowship with God, wounded his conscience, burdened his spirit, and brought him very low.

Yet Psalm 38 is not ultimately a Psalm of despair. It begins beneath the chastening hand of God, but it ends with the words, “my salvation.” The same man who cries because of his sin also cries to the God who alone can deliver him. The great moral lesson of the Psalm is therefore plain: sin which is concealed brings misery, but sin honestly acknowledged before God drives the repentant soul to the only One who can restore it.

The Chastening Hand of God

David begins,

“O LORD, rebuke me not in Thy wrath;
And chasten me not in Thy burning anger.
For Thine arrows have sunk deep into me,
And Thy hand has pressed down on me.”
(Psalm 38:1–2)

David does not ask God to pretend that his sin does not matter. Rather, he pleads for mercy under divine chastening. There is an important distinction here. The godly man does not regard God’s correction as evidence that God has ceased to care for him. Indeed, Scripture repeatedly teaches that the Lord disciplines those who belong to Him. Divine chastening is painful, but it has a moral purpose. God will not comfortably permit His people to make peace with that which is contrary to His holiness.

David describes God’s dealings with him in vivid language: “Thine arrows have sunk deep into me.” He cannot simply shake off the conviction that has seized him. God’s hand “has pressed down” upon him. There are times when God allows the conscience to become deeply troubled so that we may see sin as He sees it. We naturally excuse ourselves. We rename our sins, soften their seriousness, compare ourselves favourably with others, or occupy ourselves with distractions. But when God deals with the conscience, our evasions begin to disappear. And that is mercy. It is better to feel the wound that drives us back to God than to possess a false peace while wandering farther from Him.

“There Is No Soundness in My Flesh”

David continues,

“There is no soundness in my flesh because of Thine indignation;
There is no health in my bones because of my sin.”
(Psalm 38:3)

The older rendering familiar from the Psalter of the Book of Common Prayer expresses the thought memorably: “There is no health in my flesh because of thy displeasure.” David feels the consequences of his condition throughout his whole being. The language of the Psalm is physical, emotional, spiritual, and moral. He speaks of his flesh, his bones, his wounds, his heart, his strength, and even the light of his eyes.

We should not conclude from this that every sickness is caused by some particular personal sin. Scripture does not permit such a simplistic conclusion. But Psalm 38 does teach something equally important: sin is never healthy for the soul. Sin promises liberty and produces bondage. It promises pleasure and leaves bitterness. It promises satisfaction and creates hunger. It promises that we shall gain something by disobeying God, but ultimately takes more than it gives. David has discovered this painfully.

In verse 4 his sins have become like waters rising above his head and like “a heavy burden” too great for him. In verse 5 he traces his wounds to his own “folly.” By verse 6 he is bowed down and mourning. This is what sin does when God strips away its disguises. What once appeared attractive becomes ugly. What once appeared harmless is recognised as foolishness. What once seemed light becomes an unbearable burden. The moral health of the soul can never be maintained while sin is cherished in the heart.

The Cost of Foolishness

David does not speak of his behaviour merely as weakness. He calls it “my foolishness.” That is instructive. Sin is not only wicked; it is foolish. It is foolish to exchange fellowship with God for a passing gratification. It is foolish to damage tomorrow for the pleasure of today. It is foolish to sacrifice peace of conscience for something which cannot satisfy. It is foolish to imagine that what God has forbidden will somehow make us happier than obedience to Him.

Yet we repeatedly make precisely that exchange. The Christian therefore needs more than knowledge of God’s commandments. He needs a heart that believes God’s ways are good. Much temptation gains its strength from the suspicion that obedience will deprive us of something desirable. Faith answers that suspicion by saying, “God knows better than I do.” David had acted foolishly, and now he was tasting the bitterness of it.

When the Burden Reaches the Body

Verse 7 returns to the striking language of bodily suffering,

“For my loins are filled with burning;
And there is no soundness in my flesh.”
(Psalm 38:7)

By verse 8 David describes himself as feeble and crushed, groaning because of the turmoil within his heart. The Psalm presents a man whose trouble cannot be neatly divided into compartments. His body suffers. His conscience suffers. His emotions suffer. His relationships suffer.

Sin has a way of spreading. A secret sin may eventually affect a marriage. Bitterness may affect friendships. Pride may destroy fellowship. Dishonesty may produce continual anxiety. An uncontrolled appetite may eventually master the person who once thought he controlled it.

Sin seldom remains where we first put it. That is why Scripture’s warnings concerning sin are not the arbitrary restrictions of a severe God. They are the loving warnings of the Creator who knows what destroys His creatures. When God says, “Thou shalt not,” there is wisdom behind the prohibition.

God Hears the Sigh We Cannot Explain

Then comes one of the quietest and most comforting verses in the Psalm, “Lord, all my desire is before Thee; And my sighing is not hidden from Thee” (v. 9). David may not have had elegant words, but God heard his sigh. There are moments in the Christian life when prayer becomes little more than that. We know something is wrong. We feel the burden of failure. We cannot arrange our thoughts into polished sentences. We simply groan before God. But the sigh of a contrite heart is not hidden from Him. God does not require eloquence from the brokenhearted. He requires truth. David’s heart pounds. His strength fails. Even the brightness of his eyes seems to disappear. Then another sorrow appears.

When Friends Stand Far Off

Verse 11 tells us that David’s loved ones, friends, and relatives keep their distance. There is a peculiar loneliness in suffering. People may sympathise without fully understanding. Friends may want to help yet remain unable to enter into the depth of another person’s anguish. Sometimes those from whom we expect comfort disappoint us altogether.

David’s enemies, meanwhile, are active. While his friends stand back, his adversaries move forward. Verses 12–14 describe men plotting against him while David refuses to answer them. He becomes “like a deaf man” who does not hear. Why? Because David has ceased looking horizontally for his vindication. His attention has turned upward.

“For I Hope in Thee”

The turning point comes in verse 15, “For I hope in Thee, O LORD; Thou wilt answer, O Lord my God.” That little word “for” explains David’s silence before his enemies. He does not need to answer every accusation because he is waiting for God to answer. This is a valuable lesson for us. There are occasions when defending ourselves only multiplies trouble. Not every criticism requires an answer. Not every accusation deserves a reply. Not every enemy must be defeated by argument.

Sometimes faith remains silent and waits upon God. David knows that his enemies are watching for his foot to slip. He knows they would rejoice over his downfall. He admits that he is “ready to fall” and that his sorrow is continually before him. But something far more important happens in verse 18. He confesses, “For I confess my iniquity; I am full of anxiety because of my sin.” Here is the road back. David does not say, “I confess my unfortunate circumstances.” He says, “my iniquity.” Repentance becomes real when we stop speaking vaguely about mistakes and begin dealing honestly with sin. There is tremendous spiritual freedom in calling sin what God calls it.

Enemies Without and Sin Within

Verses 19–20 reveal an interesting tension. David’s enemies are real, numerous, and unjust. They hate him without cause and repay evil for good. David therefore has genuine grievances against other people. Yet he does not allow their wrongdoing to become an excuse for his own. That is spiritual maturity.

It is possible for another person to be wrong and for us still to need repentance. We often excuse our conduct because somebody else behaved worse. But another man’s sin cannot cleanse mine. David acknowledges both realities: his enemies have acted wickedly, and David himself has sinned. Before God, each matter must be dealt with truthfully.

“Do Not Forsake Me”

At last David reaches the final plea,

“Do not forsake me, O LORD;
O my God, do not be far from me!
Make haste to help me,
O Lord, my salvation!”
(Psalm 38:21–22)

These words reveal the deepest desire beneath the entire Psalm. David wants God. His greatest misery is not physical pain. It is not the hostility of enemies. It is not even the desertion of friends. His greatest fear is distance from God. “O my God, do not be far from me!” That is the cry of genuine repentance.

The merely remorseful man wants relief from consequences. The repentant man wants restored fellowship with God. And notice how David addresses the Lord in the final words: “O Lord, my salvation!” He does not say, “My good works are my salvation.” He does not say, “My determination to improve is my salvation.” He does not even say, “My repentance is my salvation.” The Lord Himself is his salvation. That is where Psalm 38 finally brings us.

The Moral Health of the Soul

The great warning of this Psalm should remain with us: there is no true health in a life that makes peace with sin. We may maintain appearances. We may continue our routines. Others may suspect nothing. Yet inwardly the conscience knows that something is wrong. The answer is not to silence the conscience but to come honestly before God. David teaches us what that looks like. He acknowledges God’s chastening. He admits his foolishness. He confesses his iniquity. He refuses to make the sins of his enemies an excuse for his own. He waits upon God. And finally he casts himself upon the Lord as his salvation. There is something wonderfully hopeful about that progression.

Psalm 38 begins with wrath, but it ends with salvation. It begins with God’s hand pressing David down, but it ends with David asking that same divine hand to lift him up. It begins with a man who can find “no soundness” in himself, but it ends with a man who has discovered where his hope must lie. Perhaps that is the deepest lesson of the Psalm. When we finally discover that there is no health in ourselves, we are ready to look outside ourselves. The Christian finds the fullest answer to that cry in Christ. We cannot cure the disease of sin by moral improvement alone. We cannot carry the crushing burden of guilt indefinitely. We need a Saviour.

Therefore, when conscience speaks, do not silence it. When God exposes sin, do not defend it. When foolishness becomes apparent, confess it. And when the burden seems too heavy to carry, do what David did: Turn to God. The prayer need not be long. “Do not forsake me, O LORD.” And faith may add David’s final confession: “O Lord, my salvation!” The soul’s health begins when sin is brought into the light and the sinner casts himself upon the mercy of God.