He Still Hears You
I hate to admit it, but more times than I can count, I’ve come to God with the bold, all-in, "answer me now, Lord!" kind of prayers—just like David in Psalm 4:1:
"Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God. Give me relief from my distress; have mercy on me and hear my prayer."
It wasn’t a whisper. It was a cry for help. A gut-level cry for mercy. Relief. Presence. I’ve been there. Maybe you have too.
But unlike David, I’ve often stopped there, demanding relief without surrender. I’ve cried out for peace while refusing to release what I was carrying. David, on the other hand, finishes the psalm with these quiet, confident words:
"In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety."
(Psalm 4:8)
How does someone go through so much, yet have peace in virtually every circumstance?
David’s Confidence Didn’t Come from Comfort
It’s easy to read these psalms and forget what David actually walked through. His early life was shaped by a quiet trust forged in solitude and pressure. He was a shepherd boy—unseen by men but deeply known by God. He defended his sheep from lions and bears, played worship music in the fields, and developed a real, raw relationship with the Lord before he ever faced Goliath or sat on a throne.
When the prophet Samuel came to anoint the next king, David wasn’t even invited to the ceremony. But God saw him. "Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." (1 Samuel 16:7)
David's bold prayers and peaceful confidence weren’t rooted in ideal circumstances. He had spears thrown at him, lived on the run in caves, and suffered deep betrayal—even by his own son. Yet in all of it, he kept showing up before God with his whole heart. Honest. Broken. Dependent.
That’s what made him a man after God's own heart—not perfection, but relentless pursuit—because he understood what it was like to know God and be known by Him. As A.W. Tozer agreed, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”
What About Us?
As a father, I think of my daughters. When my four-year-old runs to me crying, overwhelmed or hurt, I don’t expect her to hide her feelings. I want her to come close and tell me everything on her heart—even if it’s messy. If I, a flawed human dad, long to comfort my child, how much more does our Father in Heaven want to hear you?
The Creator of the universe—the One who formed you—invites your whole self.
Never Finished Challenge
Let David’s heart become your template. Be bold. Be honest. Be surrendered.
Cry out with everything in you, but don’t stop there—choose to trust Him even when the outcome isn’t visible yet.
That’s the challenge:
Come to God with everything in your heart, like David.
Confess what’s really going on.
Then lay it down and say, "I trust You. I’m going to rest because you are still holding me." I did that last night, praying, “I give you the results of my dad’s estate.”
Also, for some of you, spend time becoming a son or daughter of God. Ask Him to help you see Him as your Father.
That’s what makes us never finished. Not our hustle—but His grace. Not our perfection—but His presence.
What Does Today Say About God?
Psalm 4 reminds us: God doesn’t shame your stress. He doesn’t ignore your desperation. And He doesn’t leave you there either.
God is not an enabler of sin—He’s a Deliverer from it.
He doesn’t leave you in your misery—He enters it with mercy.
He offers grace that restores and discipline that realigns.
Like a loving Father, He corrects because He cares.
He gives you rest—not just sleep, but soul-deep peace.
And when you wake up again—still breathing His oxygen—it’s a sign:
He’s not finished with you.
Thank you, Jesus.