Lord, from Sorrows Deep I Call | Psalm 42

In the Northern Cape of South Africa there is a region called Namaqualand. And if you didn’t know any better, you would think it was completely barren. Because for ten months of the year it looks just like that. It looks like a graveyard of dust and decay.

But beneath that crusted soil lies a secret. The soil is packed with millions of dormant seeds waiting for the rains. And when the rains finally come, the desert disappears almost overnight. What looked dead is suddenly buried under a carpet of orange and purple and gold, as this barren wasteland suddenly becomes one of the most beautiful gardens on the face of the earth.

The beauty of Namaqualand is not that it is a desert. The beauty is that it is a garden currently forced to live like a desert.

Which is exactly where we find the Psalmist in Psalm 42. He is a man living in the dust of a spiritual dry season. He remembers the days of the superbloom. He remembers the: “multitude keeping festival,” “the procession of the people entering the temple for worship, and the "shouts of joy."

But at this very moment, his soul is cracked and dry, as it pants for a God who feels like He has evaporated into the heat.

And this is familiar to us. Because we all go through spiritual droughts where our life feels like the Namaqualand in mid July. The music of the church feels muted. The preaching feels like it’s another language. And the promises of God feel like they are buried under a hard crust of silence.

Psalm 42 shows us that this is not failure. It is a season. And it shows us how faith lives when the rain has not yet come.

To hope in God in the midst of spiritual drought we must:

1. Recognize our thirst (v. 1-4)
2. Reason with our souls (v. 5-7)
3. Rest in God’s promises (v. 8-11)

1. Recognize our thirst (v. 1-4)

The Psalmist here isn’t David, It’s one of the sons of Korah, who was one of Israel’s worship leaders. And for some reason that we are not told, He’s been forced to leave Jerusalem and is cut off from the gathered worship of God’s people. which has led to a severe spiritual drought in his life.

But before the Psalmist gets to the remedy, he begins with the diagnosis. Verse 1 says:

As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?

Psalm 42:1-2 ESV

The psalmist looks honestly at his heart and says, “I feel far from God.” But in his self-examination, notice what he does not say. “This must be because of some hidden sin.” Or, “It’s because I’m behind on my yearly Bible reading program.” or because He wasn’t praying enough, He does not accuse himself of lacking faith, effort, or discipline.

Instead, he recognizes that he has been cut off from the place and people of worship, and his soul longs to be back in the presence of God with them.

And this tells us something crucial. It tells us that times of spiritual drought are normal… They are not always the result of neglect or rebellion. They don’t come simply because we forgot to water the garden.

Yes, spiritual habits matter. But this psalm shows us that there will be times when we are doing all the things, and God still feels distant, through no obvious fault of our own.

And if we do not understand that, something dangerous happens We turn inwardly and begin to dissect ourselves to death. Which causes a spiritual nose dive leading us to ask questions like: “If I feel this way, am I even a Christian at all?” “Why does everyone else at church seem joyful when I can barely whisper a word of worship?” “And when I do sing, why does it feel cold and hollow?”

And my friends, that is often the wrong diagnosis. Think about it. Does a dead soul pant for God? - NO! Does a dead soul ache for God’s presence? - NO! Does a dead soul grieve the loss of worship? - NO! They couldn’t care less if they miss a Sunday or two, or if their Bible has gathered more dust on it than the top of the refrigerator.

The problem in Psalm 42 is not that desire is gone. The problem is that desire is being unmet. He remembers the worship. He remembers the gathered people. He remembers the songs, the processions, the shouts of joy. And his heart ACHES for God! And that ache is not evidence of spiritual death. It’s actually one of the clearest signs of spiritual life.

A desert does not miss the rain. Only a garden misses the rain. Which means your thirst for God is not proof that your soul is dead. It is proof that your soul was made to live in His presence.

The American church needs this Psalm doesn’t it? Because when someone admits they are in a spiritual drought, they often find themselves surrounded by a bunch of Job’s friends who start telling them all the things they need to do to “fix it.” Read more. Pray more. Serve more. Try harder. Have more faith.

And yes… sometimes that really is the problem. But look carefully at this psalmist. He is physically prevented from doing those things, and yet his heart longs for them.

That becomes the diagnostic question. It’s not, “Do you feel dry?” But, “What does your heart want in the dryness?”

Psalm 42 teaches us that before we rush to correction or start stacking up New Year’s resolutions, we must first recognize our thirst and examine what it is we are actually thirsting for. Because true believers will experience seasons of spiritual drought. And when that drought comes, they do not ultimately turn to the world to satisfy it, but to the God who alone can quench the deepest desires of the soul.

That is why we all desperately need this psalm. Because it reminds us that our feelings are not the foundation of our salvation. Seasons of dryness do not change who God is, nor do they cancel the promises He has made to His people. For God’s faithfulness does not rise and fall with our emotional state.

This Psalm shows us that even if you aren’t in time of spiritual drought, just wait a while, because you will be… So you had better prepare now - because they aren’t easy. In fact, for many believers, those seasons of drought become so heavy that they lead to despair so deep it brushes up against a desire to die. Scripture is honest about that. Elijah, after a great victory, asked the Lord to take his life. Moses, overwhelmed by the burden of leadership, pleaded for death. Jonah, angry and exhausted, begged God to end it. John the Baptist, sitting in prison, wrestled with doubt about the very Messiah he proclaimed. And the apostle Paul tells us there were times when he despaired even of life itself. And if Elijah, Moses, and Paul all felt that way, who you are you or I to delude ourselves into thinking we won’t ever feel that way?

The Bible does not hide these moments. It records them to show us that spiritual drought is not always a sign of unbelief. It is often a part of life in a fallen world for those who do not belong to this world!

So if that’s the diagnosis of our thirst, the question Psalm 42 answers next is not how to make the drought end, but how faith responds by reasoning with our souls.

To hope in God in the midst of spiritual drought we must:

2. Reason with our souls (v. 5-7)

At this point in the psalm, something changes. The drought does not end. The circumstances do not improve. The psalmist is still far from Jerusalem. He is still surrounded by mocking voices. He still feels the weight of God’s absence. But now, he does something different.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation

Psalm 42:5 ESV

Notice what the psalmist does not do. He does not wait for his feelings to change before he speaks. He does not sit quietly and let his emotions interpret reality. He does not confuse how he feels with what is true. He talks to his soul.

And that might sound weird to us, But I’m telling you - you HAVE to learn to this in the midst of the drought. Because if you don’t - there is a compete voice you will listen to, and it’s the voice of your own depraved heart.

Practically, this means when your soul is downcast, you have to grab your heart by collar and say: “LISTEN HEART!” “WHY ARE YOU CAST DOWN?” “What hope or dream are you gripping too hard?”

And when the psalmist does this, he is not being harsh with himself. He is being honest. He is not scolding his soul. He is interrogating it.

He is asking, “What are you believing right now?” “What conclusion have you drawn?” “What outcome are you demanding from God?” Because the heart of a downcast soul is rarely silent. It is talking all the time. It is telling you that God has forgotten you. That this season defines you. That this dryness will never end. That everyone else is fine and you are the exception.

And if you do not speak to your soul, you will listen to it. You will look for quick fixes in the hope that it will get you out of the drought. And this happens all the time - even in churches.

See, what often happens is a person goes through a spiritual drought, and instead of grabbing their heart by the collar and preaching Psalm 42 to it, they start listening to a heart that desperately wants an explanation. So the drought must be the pastor’s fault. Or the sermons fault. Or the worship team’s fault. Or the church’s fault. Or the people who are not meeting their needs the way they think they should.

Now, sometimes those things really are problems. But many times, they aren’t. Many times, it is simply this: you are in a spiritual drought. Not necessarily because you failed. Not because someone else failed. But because this is part of life in a broken world.

And if you misdiagnose the season, you will make decisions that do not heal the soul, and you’ll just move the pain somewhere else.

That is why one of the wisest pieces of counsel I was ever given came during a season of deep hardship. And in it, Pastor Bob told me: “When you are in the middle of a drought, that is not the time to make big spiritual decisions.” Instead, you endure the drought. You keep hoping. You keep speaking truth to your soul. You keep walking faithfully.

And then, when the rain begins to fall again…… when your heart has quieted, and when your desires are no longer being driven by pain or fear, that is when you say, Alright, Lord. Now what would You have me do?”

And that is exactly what the psalmist does next. He doesn’t listen to his heart - he anchors his soul.

Look again at verse 5. “Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.”

Notice what he is doing. He is not saying, “I feel hopeful.” He is not saying, “Things are getting better.” He is saying, “I will hope.” This is not emotional optimism. This is deliberate faith.

He tells his soul where its hope belongs, even while the soul is still in turmoil. And notice the hope is future-facing. “I shall again praise Him.” Not now. Not yet. But someday.

Then in verse 6, the psalmist says:

and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.

Psalm 42:6 ESV

Do you see what he’s saying? Talking to your soul does not make the sorrow disappear. It keeps the sorrow from ruling over you. He has reasoned with his soul, but he still says, “My soul is cast down within me.” The sadness remains. The drought remains. But now his sorrow is no longer in control, His faith is Which refuses to stop asserting itself!

Which is exactly where he goes in verse 7.

Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.

Psalm 42:7 ESV

The psalmist describes the sorrow of his soul as waves crashing over him. He compares it to standing beneath a roaring waterfall, with each wave after wave breaking upon his soul… leaving no room to breathe. But notice how he speaks about those waves. They aren’t random waves. These aren’t meaningless waves. They are God’s waves. “All Your breakers and Your waves have gone over me.”

Which means the psalmist does not interpret his suffering as proof of God’s absence. He interprets it as the proof of God’s presence in his life! God has not stepped away. God has not lost control. Even what feels overwhelming is still under His sovereign hand. And the psalmist recognizes this. He sees that God often allows Himself to feel distant, as if His loving hands are no longer holding us, when in reality, they never let go!

The Psalmist is recognizing this truth. He remembers what he has learned in the gathered worship of God’s people about who God is. And he takes hold of his heart and says, “Hope in the God who saves you.”

And don’t miss what that means. When the psalmist reasons with his soul, he is not discovering truth in isolation. He is rehearsing what he learned with God’s people. The truth he is preaching to his heart was first sung, confessed, and proclaimed in gathered worship. Which means his private faith is being sustained by public truth remembered.

That’s why spiritual drought becomes far more dangerous in isolation. because when the voice of your own heart becomes unreliable, you have no other voices reminding you of what is true. This is why “Lone wolf Christianity” does not work. It fails because the soul was never meant to carry truth alone. So cling to the church! Cling to God’s people - no matter how messy they are, and preach God’s truths to each other so that you’ll remember them when spiritual drought hits.

Did you notice that eery phrase “Deep calls to deep” that the Psalmist uses in verse 7? That language reaches all the way back to the opening words of Genesis. Because in Genesis 1, before there is light, before there is land, before there is order, there is deep. That’s all… Darkness over the face of the deep. Chaotic waters. Unformed, untamed, overwhelming.

And what does God do there? He brings order out of chaos. Life out of the deep. Creation out of what looked unlivable.

So when the psalmist says, “Deep calls to deep,” He is saying, “The same God who ruled the deep at creation” “is ruling the deep that is crashing over my soul right now.” “And he WILL make order of it…” “just as He did in the beginning.”

So when your heart tells you, “This chaos proves God is gone or that He does not care.” We have to learn to answer it and say, “No. This chaos proves I am standing in the deep that God is forming into light.” This is how we must learn to talk to our hearts. How we must preach to our hearts. And it’s NOT EASY! Trust me… Preaching is the hardest thing to learn how to do… But we have to learn to do it.

Because if you do not preach to your heart, your heart will preach to you. And it will not preach truth. It will preach fear, despair, and conclusions that God has not drawn.

So we must reason with our souls, not just to quiet them, but to lead them to rest in God’s promises.

To hope in God in the midst of spiritual drought we must:

3. Rest in God’s promises (v. 8-11)

At this point the Psalmist is still in the drought, He’s still wrestling. He’s still fighting to hope in God. And we see that in verse 8.

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.

Psalm 42:8 ESV

That is a remarkable statement. The psalmist is still in the dark. He is still far from Jerusalem. He is still surrounded by sorrow. And yet, he says there is a strange stability in the darkness. “By day the Lord commands His steadfast love.”

That word “steadfast love” is the Hebrew word ḥesed which is speaks of God’s unbreakable, covenantal love This means the psalmist is resting not in how he feels, but in what God has promised.

And notice this love is not something God stirs up. He “commands it”… Which means it’s not fragilely based on His feelings… It does not rise and fall with the drought.

And when he says: “At night His song is with me.” He’s saying: “Even in the terrors of night, the song of God’s covenantal love is over me. “

But again, even this glorious truth hasn’t ended the Psalmist’s drought, which is why in the next verses he’s back to examining his heart.

I say to God, my rock: “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?” As with a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?”

Psalm 42:9-10 ESV

By now I’m sure you’re sensing that this Psalm feels a bit like a Yo-Yo… Up and down - up and down… But that just shows the Bible’s brilliant understanding of the human condition! I mean look at that verse! He calls God “my rock” and then asks, “Why have you forgotten me?”

His heart is right back to saying: “I know you’re my rock. My fortress… My help in a time of need. But where are you?” “My enemies taunt me, saying: Where is your God?” “And my heart taunts me saying: “Where is MY GOD?” Do you see the absolute honesty here?

And yet, he doesn’t walk away from his faith or give into despair… He prays…

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

Psalm 42:11 ESV

And with that, the psalm ends where it began. Not in the return of good circumstances. Not in the end of mockery. Not even in the restoration of temple worship. He ends with: “I shall Hope in God and praise Him… my God and my salvation.”

That word salvation is the Hebrew word yeshuah. And that is stunning when you remember who is saying it. This is a Son of Korah. Korah was the man who rebelled against God and was swallowed by the earth under judgment. And his story should have ended there. But it didn’t because grace didn’t end there. God spared Korah’s sons. God made them the worship leaders of Israel, And He put a song in their mouths. And now one of them is standing in a drought saying, “You are still my salvation.” “My Yeshua.”

Which means the psalmist is resting his hope not in his righteousness, not in his performance, not even in his faithfulness, but in the saving character of God Himself.

And as New Testament Christians, We have something this Son of Korah didn’t. We have the fuller and clearer picture of the God who saves.

The word for salvation here - “Yeshua,” is the Hebrew word for “Jesus.” Who became our salvation by going through the greatest spiritual drought for us.

In John 12, Jesus says, in a garden…

“Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”

John 12:27-28 ESV

Like this son of Korah, Jesus’s soul was downcast. And yet, unlike with this son of Korah, and unlike with you and I there would be no salvation for Him. For when He hung on the cross and cried out: “I thirst,” There would be no end to His drought. No God Who would comfort Him in the night. And no salvation.

And why? He faced the ultimate thirst of God’s wrath so that you and I could be forever quenched by God’s perfect love. So that barren ground like you and I could drink His living water and become a living garden… watered by grace… and made alive to the praise of His glorious grace.

And because of this we can confidently sing through the droughts of life: When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, "It is well, it is well with my soul."

This is the manuscript the sermon was preached from, so the recording may differ in places.