Hitting Bottom: A Prayer Psalm 6

For the music director, with stringed instruments, on the Sheminith. A Psalm of David.

We have all made mistakes, some small and some big. But some of us have a whole life characterized by mistakes. And eventually those mistakes catch up with us and attack our very body. This attack is not unforeseen—people have been telling us for years that if we live this way, we will eventually die. Then we realize that death is imminent. Our time has come. And we ask, “Is it too late? Can I turn back to God now, at this late hour? Will God give me life, although I deserve death?”

O Yahweh, do not rebuke me in your anger
Nor chastise me in your wrath.
Show me mercy, Yahweh, for I waste away;
Heal me, Yahweh, for my bones are shaking in terror.
My soul is utterly frightened.

The psalmist is terribly ill, chronically sick. His whole body is breaking down, wasting away, he can hardly lift his head. Yet, at the same time, he recognizes that this illness is his own fault. He was the one who acted in opposition to God’s plan, and so the illness is a result of his own sin, his own rejection of God’s instruction. He wishes so much that he could change his past—but it’s too late. What’s done is done and now his body is being eaten alive from within.
Many of us have lived in lifestyles of addiction, doing that which we knew would destroy us. We have lived lives of sexual freedom, drugs, alcohol, violence or hatred. Yes, we knew that it would destroy us, but to live such a life seemed like freedom, like joy that we felt we could never experience in limitations. But now we know the consequence of our actions. Every action we do has results, either good or bad. And as our bodies fail, our muscles weaken and our minds falter, we can now see that our choices were not freedom, but foolish short-sightedness. Now we are scared—will God give us the ultimate punishment because of our rebellion?

As for you, Yahweh, how long?
Return, Yahweh, deliver me!
Save me because of your faithful love.
In death there is no remembrance of You
In Sheol, who will give You thanks?

In the midst of this self-blame, the psalmist asks for God’s deliverance. His sickness is a slavery, and God is the one who delivers from slavery. Even as he saved the children of Israel, even in their rebellion, will He not also deliver me? Of course he will. The psalmist reminds God of His faithfulness. You promised to forgive, Lord! You promised to stop judgment if I would turn to You! Even so, at any time we can turn to God and ask for deliverance, for healing. He will not fail to listen. No matter what kind of evil we have done, God is there for us if only we would say, “Please forgive me.”
And if we make an agreement with God, God will fulfill his side. God is faithful and merciful. He doesn’t stick to a harsh sentence if we ask for pardon. After all, the psalmist reminds God, if you send me to hell, then I will not be there to honor You. Death is full of silence and emptiness—“Please,” he cries, “give me life and I will praise You!” Only if we experience God’s deliverance from death can we give Him glory.

I am exhausted with my groaning
I flood my bed each night
I drench my couch with tears.
My eye is worn out in grief
It becomes weak because of my adversaries.

The psalmist turns back to his agony. He groans in pain and sorrow. He is up all night, crying. He is weeping because of his illness. His sleep is punctuated by vomit and shit. He is terribly sick and in horrific pain. But not only is he crying out about his illness, but also in regret. He cries to God for delieverence and for repentance.
Then he looks around. His friends surround him. Yes, they are concerned about him. Yes, they care about him. But they have never cared about him as much as their own pleasures, their own desperate needs. Who are these people? Are they really his friends, ready to support him in his need? Or are they actually his enemies, looking to draw him back into the very sin that brought him to this sorry state? Do they love him or do they want to use him? Suddenly, with a realization of insight, they never loved him. They are not his friends, but his enemies.

Get away, all who do evil
For Yahweh heard the voice of my weeping
Yahweh has heard my petition
Yahweh accepts my prayer.
All my enemies will be shamed and will panic
They will turn back,
They will be instantly ashamed.

The psalmist turns on his so-called “friends” and recognize them as the people who are destroying him. Some of these oppressors are spirits—demons tempting him to do evil, to destroy himself in pleasure and forgetfulness. Some of these oppressors are human, always calling him to join them in their excesses, drawing him into the path of sickness and death.
“Get away from me,” he cries. Sure, the life he led was his own choice, but these people, these spirits have continually drawn him back, even when they seem to be caring about him the most. Now he realizes that if God is going to give him freedom—true freedom, freedom from sickness, freedom from the consequences of his sin, God will also give him freedom from these who drew him away from God.
These enemies, the psalmist understands now, are headed to destruction, just as he was. God will lead them into sickness, into death, and if they do not repent they too will be eaten alive by judgment, by remorse. The psalmist no longer wants to live that life, but to live in God. So he separates himself from his previous friends. Not because he hates them, but because he no longer wants the results of the life they live.