In 142:5–6, David asked the Lord to change his circumstances: to deal justly with his persecutors and to honor His promise to make David king. But he also recognized the greater need for God to change his state of mind. He asked to be released from the mental, emotional prison of depression. Then his song takes a dramatic turn. It’s unlikely his attitude had changed before completing the hymn.

David feels enveloped or wrapped up in his depression, so much so his spirit feels faint and feeble. In the middle of confessing his darkest feelings of hopelessness, he acknowledges that God knows everything, even the thoughts and emotions he has not shared with any other person. David then adds that things on the outside of the cave are as depressing as on the inside. Traps were laid by Saul and his men. Spies were everywhere. He was a marked man.

The raw emotion of David’s prayer in Psalm 142 comes through clearly in his choice of words. In his Cave of Adullam, the beleaguered future king struggled with depression and shrieked heavenward.

I used to wonder why we ever needed to utter words in prayer since God already knows all our thoughts (Psalm 139:4). Then one day I stumbled across Hosea 14:1–2.

The four hundred were an unorganized, inefficient, depressed mob without a leader, so they attached themselves to David. Picture the scene in your mind. With a little imagination you could see how depressed he must have been. Surely he sighed as he thought, What now? or Why me? In the depth of distress, having reached the end of his rope, David talked with his Lord about his desperate situation.

Who hasn’t struggled with those demoralizing seasons of dark sadness? Everyone suffers from grief and sorrow from time to time. But depression is a different matter. Like a disease, it’s very common, but it’s not “normal.” Depression is an extended state of mind characterized by acute sadness that most likely will not go away by itself. It needs attention.

On six separate occasions David refers to the enemies of God in the strongest of terms. These were not moderate, passive foes of the Lord; they were unashamed, hateful, open, and blatant despisers of God and God’s people. To associate with them would pollute the testimony of any saint—and David declares his independence of them, especially when he states, “They have become my enemies” (139:22b).

Most folks struggle with feelings of insignificance from time to time. Larger-than-life athletes, greatly gifted film and television stars, brilliant students, accomplished singers, skillful writers, even capable ministers can leave us feeling intimidated, overlooked, and underqualified. For some, feeling insignificant is not simply a periodic battle; it is a daily grind! We know deep down inside we’re valuable; but when we compare ourselves, we often come out on the short end.

Psalm 116 is the lament of a man surrounded by grief and sorrow, most likely because death has touched his life. Let’s take a few moments to probe a little deeper into a song of sadness.

The first line of the psalmist’s song is surprising. He writes, “I love the LORD, because . . . ” (116:1). In the nineteenth century, a young English girl, Elizabeth Barrett, suffered a spinal injury at age . . .