Our Trust in Hours of Depression: Spurgeon Short for March 15, 2022

“Because Thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of Thy wings will I rejoice” (Psalm 63:7)

Does not this set forth our Lord as our trust in hours of depression? In the Psalm now open before us, David was banished from the means of grace to a dry and thirsty land, where no water was. What is much worse, he was in a measure away from all conscious enjoyment of God. He says, “Early will I seek Thee. My soul thirsteth for Thee.” He sings rather of memories than of present communion with God. We also have come into this condition, and have been unable to find any present comfort. “Thou hast been my help,” has been the highest note we could strike, and we have been glad to reach to that. At such times, the light of God’s face has been withdrawn, but our faith has taught us to rejoice under the shadow of His wings. Light there was none; we were altogether in the shade, but it was a warm shade. We felt that God who had been near must be near us still, and therefore we were quieted. Our God cannot change, and therefore as He was our help He must still be our help, our help even though He casts a shadow over us, for it must be the shadow of His own eternal wings. The metaphor is, of course, derived from the nestling of little birds under the shadow of their mother’s wings, and the picture is singularly touching and comforting. The little bird is not yet able to take care of itself, so it cowers down under the mother, and is there happy and safe. Disturb a hen for a moment, and you will see all the little chickens huddling together, and by their chirps making a kind of song. Then they push their heads into her feathers, and seem happy beyond measure in their warm abode. When we are very sick and sore depressed, when we are worried with the care of pining children, and the troubles of a needy household, and the temptations of Satan, how comforting it is to run to our God,—like the little chicks run to the hen,—and hide away near His heart, beneath His Wings. Oh, tried ones, press closely to the loving heart of your Lord, hide yourselves entirely beneath His wings! Here awe has disappeared, and rest itself is enhanced by the idea of loving trust. The little birds are safe in their mother’s love, and we, too, are beyond measure secure and happy in the loving favour of the Lord.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, “Til He Comes: Communion Meditations and Addresses,” G.L.H. Publishing