The Book of Psalms – Part 2 How Long, Lord? Psalm 13
The Book of Psalms – Part 2
How Long, Lord? – Psalm 13
Crosspoint – Dave Spooner – June 14, 2026
Introduction
Last week, we began this series in Psalm 1, and we saw that the blessed life is found by being
rooted in God’s Word, planted in God’s grace, and walking in God’s way.
Psalm 1 gave us a picture of a faithful person as a tree planted by streams of water. That person
is rooted, stable, fruitful, and watched over by the Lord, which is a beautiful picture of the
blessed life. But today we will turn to Psalm 13, where the feeling is very different.
Psalm 1 states, “The Lord watches over the way of the righteous.” Psalm 13 asks, “How long,
Lord? Will you forget me forever?” Psalm 1 gives us the rooted tree. Psalm 13 in contrast, gives
us the crying heart. Psalm 1 tells us what a blessed life is. Psalm 13 shows us what the blessed
life sometimes feels like when the road is hard, the waiting is long, and God feels far away.
It is important for us to hold both of these truths so that we don’t misunderstand what the
“blessed life” is. We can think that if we are walking with God, then life should feel easy all the
time. We can think that if we are rooted in God’s Word, then we should not struggle with
sorrow, confusion, anxiety, disappointment, or waiting. We can think that faithful people
should always feel strong.
But the psalms paint a fuller picture of the realities of life. The psalms are honest. They give us
words for praise, and also words for pain. They teach us how to rejoice, and also how to lament.
They teach us how to sing when our hearts are full, but also how to pray when our hearts are
wrung out.
One of the reasons the psalms have been loved by God’s people for so long is that they are
honest about this life. They normalize our experience of its ups and downs; they teach us to be
honest in our walk with God in every season and place of our lives, including the difficult and
dry ones. Psalm 13 helps us to deal with those times and know how to navigate them.
In its short six verses, it moves from the depths of anguish to the beginning of song. It begins
with “How long?” and ends with “I will sing.” It begins with David feeling forgotten and ends
with David trusting in God’s unfailing love. It is fascinating to see the movement, and it gives
us a pathway to walk when we, at times, may feel the same.
The main thought of Psalm 13 is this: Faith does not pretend the waiting is easy. Faith brings
the waiting to God, asks for light, and trusts His unfailing love until it can sing again.
Before we read Psalm 13, we are going to watch a short BibleProject video that gives us an
overview of the psalms as a whole. I think it will be helpful for us to expand our picture of the
psalms as a whole so that we can read and understand them well, and then appropriately apply
them to our lives.
The whole book of Psalms moves from lament to praise, and we will see the same movement in
Psalm 13, which again gives us a roadmap of how to handle and think about the struggles of
our lives.
Ps 13 NIV (Page 468)
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from
me? 2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my
heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, 4
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. 6 I will sing the
Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.
Bring Your Honest Anguish to the Lord
Psalm 13 begins with a repeated question: “How long?” Four times in the first two verses David
asks, “How long?” “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you
hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after
day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” This is
the honest prayer of one who feels forgotten, exhausted, sorrowful, and opposed. And there are
times when we may feel the same way.
Notice what David does with his anguish; he brings it to God. He does not say, “I should not
feel this way, so I will not pray this way.” He brings the reality of his anguish into the presence
of God. That is one of the gifts of lament. Lament is not faithlessness. Lament is faith under
pressure. Lament is what faith sounds like when it is hurting. Lament is pain that is prayed.
There is a great difference between complaining about God and complaining to God.
Complaining about God moves away from Him. Complaining to God moves toward Him.
Psalm 13 is not David walking away from God. It is David refusing to walk away from God.
Even when he feels forgotten by God, he still turns to God. That is faith, friends.
Sometimes people think faith means never asking hard questions. But the Bible gives us
prayers that ask hard questions. “How long, Lord?” is a faithful question when it is asked
toward God, in the presence of God, with a heart that loves God.
David feels forgotten. He says, “Will you forget me forever?” Now, we know theologically that
God does not forget His people. God does not lose track of His children. God does not misplace
His promises. But David is not writing a systematic theology textbook here. He is praying from
the reality of the ache of his heart. He is describing what he feels.
The grace and gift of the psalms give us permission to tell God what life feels like, even when
what life feels like is not the final word about who God is.
There are times when God feels far away. There are times when His face seems hidden. There
are times when you pray and nothing seems to change. There are times when the waiting feels
long and the sorrow feels daily. David says, “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and
day after day have sorrow in my heart?”
Have you ever “wrestled with your thoughts?” It is exhausting. Your mind will not stop. You
replay the conversation. You revisit the diagnosis. You rehearse the disappointment. You
imagine the worst. You try to solve what you cannot control. You wake up with it. You carry it
through the day. You bring it to bed at night. And David says there is sorrow in his heart day
after day. That is real, and the Bible recognizes this state of mind and gives us words for it.
That is good news for the person who feels like they cannot pray because they are too tired, too
confused, too sad, or too discouraged. Psalm 13 says, “Start there. Start with ‘How long?’ Start
with the ache. Start with the sorrow. Start with the question. But bring it to the Lord.”
The rooted person from Psalm 1 is not someone who never cries. The rooted person is
someone who knows where to take their tears.
So let me ask you: What do you do with your “How long?” Some of us bury it. We stay busy. We
smile. We say we are fine. But the sorrow is still there. Some of us numb it. We distract
ourselves with food, screens, work, shopping, entertainment, achievement, or noise. Some of
us rehearse it endlessly inside our own heads. We wrestle with our thoughts, but we never turn
those thoughts into prayer. Some of us grow cynical. We let the waiting harden us.
But Psalm 13 teaches us a better way. Bring your honest anguish to the Lord. Faith brings the
waiting, the wondering, and the wailing to God who is your Maker, your Shepherd, your
Father, your God who hears, sees, knows, and redeems. He is wise, and loving, and just and
good. He will make all things beautiful in His time, and He is weaving all things together for
good, for those who are called according to His purpose.
Ask the Lord for Light
The starting place of Psalm 13 is anguish. It does not stay there; it then moves into prayer.
Verse 3 says, “Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will
sleep in death.” David moves from asking, “How long?” to saying, “Look on me and answer.”
That is a very important turn. Lament does not stop with the expression of pain. It turns pain
into prayer. It brings sorrow before God and asks Him to act.
David asks for God’s attention: “Look on me.” He asks for God’s answer: “Answer, Lord my
God.” He asks for “light,” which is hope, a way forward, life and strength and direction.
Lord, give light to my eyes. I cannot see clearly right now. I cannot see the way forward. I
cannot see what You are doing. I cannot see past this grief. I cannot see past this fear. I cannot
see past this waiting. Lord, give light to my eyes.
This is not a vague spirituality. This is direct dependence. David is not merely venting. He is
asking. He knows that if God does not help him, he will not make it. He knows that if God does
not give light, he will remain in darkness. He knows that if God does not answer, no other
answer will be enough.
Notice how he addresses God: “Lord my God.” That is covenant language. David feels
forgotten, but he still says, “my God.” David feels like God’s face is hidden, but he still says,
“my God.” David is wrestling with sorrow, but he still says, “my God.” Here is the deal, faith
can be honest about pain while still clinging to relationship.
There are times when your best and only prayer is “Lord my God.” Which says, I do not
understand, but You are still my God. I do not feel strong, but You are still my God. I do not
see the answer yet, but You are still my God. I am hurting, but I am hurting before You, and
with You, and in You.
David brings both his anguish and then his fear before the Lord. In verse 4, he says, “and my
enemy will say, ‘I have overcome him,’ and my foes will rejoice when I fall.”
We do not know exactly what enemy David has in mind. It may have been a personal enemy, a
military enemy, a spiritual enemy, or some combination. But David fears being overcome. He
fears falling. He fears that his enemies will rejoice over him.
This teaches us something about prayer. We do not have to hide our fears from God. We can
bring Him the thing we are afraid will happen. We can bring Him the outcome we dread. We
can bring Him the scenario that keeps replaying in our minds.
Prayer does not mean pretending you are not afraid. Prayer means bringing your fear into
the presence of the God who is greater than what you fear.
For some, the prayer is, “Lord, I am afraid this diagnosis will define the rest of my life.” For
another, “Lord, I am afraid my child will not come back to You.” For another, “Lord, I am
afraid my marriage will not heal.” For another, “Lord, I am afraid I will always feel this lonely.”
For another, “Lord, I am afraid I will fail.” For another, “Lord, I am afraid the sorrow will never
lift.” Be honest, wrestle for the words that describe your mind and heart.
Psalm 13 says, bring that to the Lord. Ask Him for light. Ask Him to look on you. Ask Him to
sustain you. Ask Him to keep you from falling. Ask Him to give you what you cannot give
yourself: perspective, patience, or perseverance of peace.
David says, “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts?” The turning point comes when those
thoughts become prayer. That is a practice we can learn.
When anxious thoughts circle in your mind, turn them into prayer. When sorrow weighs on
your heart, turn it into prayer. When fear speaks loudly, turn it into prayer. When your soul
says, “How long?” do not let the question stay trapped inside. Pray it.
The psalms train us to do this. They teach us to take the raw material of our lives and bring it
before God. Bring your honest anguish to the Lord. Ask the Lord for light.
Trust in the Lord’s Unfailing Love
Then we move to verse 5, and the whole psalm turns on one word: “But.” “But I trust in your
unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.”
Nothing in the psalm tells us David’s circumstances have changed. There is no report that the
enemy disappeared or that the sorrow lifted or that David suddenly understood why the
waiting had been so long.
But something has changed. David has turned his face toward the Lord. He has brought his
anguish to God. He has asked God for light. And then he remembers and rehearses what is
true: “I trust in your unfailing love.”
That phrase “unfailing love” is one of the richest and greatest words in the Old Testament. It
refers to God’s covenant love, His steadfast love, His loyal love, His faithful mercy. It is the love
of the God who binds Himself to His people and keeps His promises.
David does not say, “I trust in my feelings.” His feelings are all over the place. He does not say,
“I trust in my circumstances.” His circumstances are still painful. He does not say, “I trust in
my ability to figure this out.” He has been wrestling with his thoughts and sorrow day after day.
He says, “I trust in your unfailing love.”
This is where lament becomes worship. Not because the pain was fake. Not because the
questions were wrong. Not because the waiting did not matter. But because God’s unfailing
love is deeper than what David can see in the moment.
Faith is not the absence of anguish or fear. Faith is choosing to anchor your soul to the
unchanging Rock of the unfailing love of God, that will not fail during the storms of the night.
That is what we need. Because when we suffer, we often look for something solid enough to
hold us, and God gives us Himself. He gives us His unfailing love. He gives us His promises. He
gives us His presence. He gives us His salvation.
When David moves from pain to prayer to promise, he then says, “My heart rejoices in
your salvation.”
Look at the movement. In verse 2 he said he had sorrow in his heart day after day. Now in
verse 5 he says his heart rejoices. The same heart that carried sorrow is now beginning to
rejoice.
That does not mean the sorrow has completely vanished. It means sorrow no longer has the
only word. God’s salvation has entered the conversation. God’s unfailing love has become
louder than the fear.
This is one of the deep works of prayer. Prayer does not always change our circumstances
immediately, but it reconnects our hearts to God. Prayer brings our sorrow into contact with
God’s love. Prayer brings our fears into contact with God’s salvation. Prayer brings our
questions into contact with God’s character. It is the Spirit of God using the truth of God to re-
anchor the people of God in the love of God.
This is where we must see Christ. How do we know God’s love is unfailing when life feels dark?
How do we know God has not forgotten us? How do we know His face will not be hidden
forever? We look to Jesus.
At the cross, Jesus entered our deepest lament. He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you
forsaken me?” He took the place of sinners. He bore our judgment. He entered the darkness.
He tasted death. He was mocked by enemies. He was laid in the grave.
But the Father did not abandon Him to the grave. On the third day, He raised Him from the
dead. So when Psalm 13 says, “My heart rejoices in your salvation,” we can say that with even
greater clarity because we know the salvation of God in the crucified and risen Christ.
The cross shows us that God’s love is not shallow. The resurrection shows us that God’s
salvation is stronger than even death.
So the Christian faith is not vain optimism. It is not saying, “Everything will probably be fine.”
Christian faith says, “Jesus died and rose again. God has proven His unfailing love. God has
secured my salvation. In the great darkness of night, the dawn of light will come, and I will
trust in the One who gave His life for me and promises His salvation.”
Bring your honest anguish to the Lord. Ask the Lord for light. Trust in the Lord’s unfailing love.
Sing Because the Lord Has Been Good
Psalm 13 ends in verse 6: “I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.”
Notice the movement in this psalm; it begins with “How long?” and ends with “I will sing.” This
is the journey of faithful and faith-filled lament. David moves from anguish to prayer, from
prayer to trust, and from trust to song.
Faith remembers. When you cannot yet see what God is doing, remember what He has done.
When you cannot yet see the answer, remember His goodness. When your voice is choked with
tears, sing because the Lord has been good.
This passage does not ask us to force a fake happiness. It tells us to rehearse the truth. It means
you let memory feed your faith.
David says, “He has been good to me.” That is past tense. David looks back. He remembers
the Lord’s care. He remembers the Lord’s rescue. He remembers the Lord’s mercy. He
remembers the Lord’s faithfulness. And that memory gives him a song in the present.
This is one of the reasons worship matters so much. When we gather and sing, we are not only
singing from our feelings. We are singing our faith. Sometimes we sing because our hearts are
full. Sometimes we sing because our hearts need to be reminded. Sometimes we sing with joy.
Sometimes we sing through tears. Sometimes we sing as an act of defiance against despair.
The enemy says, “You are forgotten.” The song says, “The Lord has been good to me.” Fear
says, “You will not make it.” The song says, “I trust in Your unfailing love.” Sorrow says, “This
will never end.” The song says, “My heart rejoices in Your salvation.” This is why the psalms are
not just meant to be studied. They are meant to be prayed and sung. They train our hearts to
move toward God.
Conclusion
Psalm 13 teaches us that the blessed life is not a life without sorrow. The blessed life is a life
that knows where to take sorrow.
Last week Psalm 1 showed us the planted life. This week Psalm 13 shows us the praying life.
Those two belong together. The rooted person is not someone who never suffers. The rooted
person is someone who brings suffering to the Lord.
So when you find yourself asking, “How long?” bring that question to God. When your
thoughts are wrestling and your heart is sorrowful, do not let those thoughts stay trapped
inside your own mind. Turn them into prayer. When the light feels dim, ask the Lord to give
light to your eyes. When you cannot see what God is doing, place the weight of your soul on His
unfailing love. When the sorrow has not fully lifted, remember His goodness and sing.
Most of all, cling to Christ. In Christ, the Father’s face is turned toward you in grace. In Christ,
God’s unfailing love has been proven. In Christ, salvation is secure. In Christ, the final “How
long?” will one day become everlasting praise. He is the one who is closer than a brother, who
is with you even to the end of the age.
Remember this psalm in whatever anguish you are carrying, and then pray your own Psalm 13
prayer. Start honestly: “How long, Lord?” Name the sorrow. Name the fear. Name the waiting.
Then ask specifically: “Look on me and answer. Give light to my eyes.” Then preach the truth to
your heart: “But I trust in Your unfailing love.” And then remember: “You have been good to
me.”
Faith does not pretend the waiting is easy; faith brings the waiting to God, asks for light, and
trusts His unfailing love until it can sing again.
Our prayer team is available to pray with you after the service, near the “prayer” sign
at the front of the sanctuary, and in the prayer room next to the offices. Also, you can
send your prayer request to prayer@crosspointrockford.com
Questions for Growth Groups
1. Psalm 13 begins with David asking, “How long, Lord?” What does this teach us about the kind
of honesty God invites from His people in prayer?
2. The sermon said, “Lament is not faithlessness. Lament is faith under pressure. Lament is pain
that is prayed.” How does that help you think differently about seasons of sorrow, waiting, or
confusion?
3. David says he wrestles with his thoughts and has sorrow in his heart day after day. What are
some common ways people handle those kinds of thoughts besides bringing them to God?
4. What is the difference between complaining about God and complaining to God? Why does
that distinction matter?
5. David prays, “Give light to my eyes.” Where do you currently need the Lord to give you light,
perspective, strength, or a way forward?
6. Psalm 13 turns with the words, “But I trust in your unfailing love.” What does it look like to
trust God’s unfailing love when your circumstances have not yet changed?
7. Psalm 13 begins with “How long?” and ends with “I will sing.” How can remembering God’s
past goodness help you worship Him in present pain?
