When Life Feels Like Psalm 88
“O Lord, God of my salvation,
I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!”
— Psalm 88:1–2 (ESV)
Have you ever read Psalm 88? It’s not exactly uplifting. Most scholars call it the darkest psalm in the Bible. There’s no happy ending, no breakthrough moment, no “but then I praised the Lord, and everything was fine.” It ends in silence. The writer—Heman the Ezrahite—is left in anguish, crying out to God, and the heavens seem silent.
Psalm 88 is pure lament. And if we’re honest, many of us have lived parts of our lives inside that psalm.
As we enter what some might call the fourth quarter of life, we often find that things aren’t what we imagined. Relationships aren’t as close as we hoped. Children are distant. Our health begins to fail. Money gets tight. That “career” we thought would take us to retirement leaves us high and dry. And we find ourselves alone—at least that’s how it feels.
Psalm 88 doesn’t offer a resolution. The psalmist doesn’t get a divine answer or a shining promise at the end. But he does get one thing right: he keeps crying out to God. Even in despair, he begins the psalm with hope—“O Lord, God of my salvation.”
That title matters. Even in pain, he still knows who God is. Even when God feels far, the psalmist remembers that He is still the God of salvation.
Lament is part of life. Even Jesus lamented on the cross:
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).
David lamented his sin:
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love.” (Psalm 51:1).
And Moses, one of the greatest leaders in Scripture, lamented the people he led and the destiny he could not reach. After years of obedience, he stood on Mount Nebo, saw the Promised Land, but was told he would not cross over:
“I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there.” (Deuteronomy 34:4).
Imagine that—the heartbreak of leading God’s people faithfully for decades and not being allowed to finish the journey with them. That must have been an unbearable moment of lament for Moses. Yet even in that grief, God personally buried him (Deuteronomy 34:6). Even in loss, Moses was still deeply loved.
When you find yourself living out Psalm 88—when life feels bleak, silent, and unfair—remember this: lament is not unbelief. Lament is faith that refuses to quit. It’s the cry of a heart that still believes God is listening.
The psalmist began with prayer, and that’s where we must begin too: “O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out day and night before you.” As long as He remains your God of salvation, there is hope, even in the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4).
We don’t have to understand the “why.” We just have to keep coming to the One who hears us, even when He seems silent. Because silence doesn’t mean absence—and unanswered doesn’t mean abandoned.
Prayer
Father,
When life feels heavy and Your presence feels distant,
remind me that You are still the God of my salvation.
Teach me to lament with faith, not despair.
When my prayers seem to echo in silence,
help me trust that You are still near.
Give me strength to cry out day and night,
knowing You hear me even when I cannot hear You.
Carry me through the valley, Lord,
and restore my hope in Your unfailing love.
In Christ’s name, Amen.
Takeaway
Even in silence, God is still your salvation. Keep praying, keep crying out, and keep walking—the valley is not the end of your story.