First Baptist Church Litchfield
January 4, 2026

      • 1 Corinthians 1:9ESV

  • The Solid Rock

      • Lamentations 3:22–23ESV

  • All Things
  • Great Is Thy Faithfulness
  • He Will Hold Me Fast

  • Walking the Path of Prayer in 2026

    There are seasons in the Christian life when prayer feels natural—almost effortless. But there are other seasons when prayer feels costly, urgent, even desperate. Psalm 143 is written in one of those seasons.
    David is praying from a place of weakness. His enemies are real, his soul is crushed, his strength is fading, and his only refuge is the Lord. This psalm gives us a window into what prayer looks like when faith is no longer on the periphery of your American Dream, but when it is necessary for survival—when prayer more than a box to be checked off, but in fact is a lifeline to be clung to.
    As we begin this four-part journey through Psalm 143, we are charting a P.A.T.H. for our church—a path that draws us closer to Jesus and teaches us how to walk in a manner worthy of the gospel. That path begins where all true spiritual renewal begins: on our knees.
    Before David asks God to act, he asks God to hear. Before he seeks direction, he confesses dependence. Psalm 143 teaches us that prayer is not the overflow of spiritual strength, but the confession of spiritual need. And that is precisely where God delights to meet His people.

    God draws His weary people near through dependent prayer—teaching us to trust His mercy, remember His faithfulness, and walk in obedience for the sake of His name.

    Six Habits of Dependent Prayer for 2026

    Psalm 143 is a lament—a prayer forged in pressure. David is under attack. The psalm does not tell us who his enemies are or why they are pursuing him, but it does not need to. The intensity of the language makes the situation unmistakably clear. David feels crushed, hunted, and spiritually spent. The danger is so urgent that delay feels unbearable. He needs the Lord to answer—and he needs Him now.
    The structure of the psalm reflects the movement of a soul seeking refuge in God. In verses 1–2, David begins with an urgent plea for the Lord to hear him. In verses 3–4, he lays his suffering bare, describing the crushing weight his enemies have brought upon his life. Then, in verses 5–6, David deliberately turns his gaze backward, remembering the mighty works of the Lord in days past. That remembrance is not nostalgic as it was when the older Israelites lamented at the new temple remembering its former glory. David’s remembering fuels his faith. He knows the works of the Lord, and out of that renewed confidence, David pours out a series of petitions in verses 7–12, asking the Lord to act according to His steadfast love and righteous character.
    And it is important to notice where David begins. Before he explains his circumstances, before he names his enemies, before he asks for deliverance, he humbles himself before God.
    That brings us to the first movement of faithful prayer: David teaches us to pray from humility, appealing not to our righteousness, but to the mercy and faithfulness of the Lord.

    I. Praying from Humility: Appealing to God’s Mercy, Not Our Merit (Psalm 143:1–2)

    David begins exactly where true prayer must begin—with a cry to be heard. “Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my pleas for mercy.” This is not calm reflection as you read in Psalm 23. This is gut-wrenching desperation. David is pleading. He is begging God not to turn away. His prayer carries the weight of urgency because his soul is under siege.
    Notice what David asks for. He does not first ask for deliverance. He does not argue his innocence. He pleads for mercy. The word David uses carries the sense of kindness, grace, and covenant compassion. David is appealing to the very character of God—the God who revealed Himself to Moses as “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exod. 34:6). David knows that if God responds, it will not be because David deserves it, but because God is faithful to who He is.
    David also appeals to God’s righteousness. God’s righteousness means He always acts in perfect harmony with His covenant love. At this point, the reader might expect David to defend himself. After all, there are other psalms where David pleads his integrity and protests unjust accusations (Psalm 7,26, 35). But not here.
    Verse 2 takes us to a familiar place. “Enter not into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you.” This is remarkable humility. David, a man after God’s own heart, chosen to be king of God’s people, does not ask God to judge him favorably; he asks God not to judge him at all. He confesses a truth that runs through the entire witness of Scripture: before a holy God, no human being can stand on their own righteousness.
    The Bible is unflinchingly clear about the fallen condition of mankind. “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’ They are corrupt… there is none who does good” (Ps. 14:1). Isaiah tells us that all we like sheep have gone astray. And the apostle Paul gathers the whole human race under a single verdict: “None is righteous, no, not one… all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:10–23).
    David understands this. He knows he has nothing of merit to place before the Lord. No moral résumé. No righteous defense. Only need. Only dependence. Only mercy.
    And brothers and sisters, as it was with David, so it is with us. We have all sinned against God. We have exchanged His glory for lesser things. Even our best efforts—Isaiah says—are like filthy garments before a holy God (Isa. 64:6). If God were to deal with us according to strict justice alone, none of us could stand.
    But here is the good news. On this side of the cross, humility before God is met with mercy from God. Those who confess their sin, acknowledge their depravity, and cry out for grace are not turned away. God forgives sin through His Son, Jesus Christ. More than that, He atones for it. He clothes the sinner in the righteousness of Christ Himself. As Paul tells us, Christ becomes our righteousness, our sanctification, and our redemption (Romans 5:19; 1 Cor 1:31; 2 Cor 5:21).
    So now, in Christ, prayer offered from humility is not rejected—it is welcomed and encouraged. For those whose sins have been forgiven and who are clothed in the righteousness of Jesus, the writer of Hebrews extends this gospel invitation:
    “Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16).
    What once stood against us has been fully satisfied at the cross. The judgment our sin deserved has been borne by Christ, and the righteousness we could never earn has been freely given to us by grace through faith. The God who heard David’s desperate plea for mercy is the same God who now invites His redeemed children to come boldly—not because we are worthy, but because Christ is.
    Brothers and sisters, in 2026, do not approach God from a posture of self-righteousness or spiritual performance, but from grateful dependence upon His mercy. That is where faithful prayer begins—not with confidence in ourselves, but with humble trust in a gracious Savior who delights to give mercy in our time of need.

    II. Praying with Honesty: Bringing Darkness and Weakness into the Light (Psalm 143:3–4)

    In verses 3 and 4, David does something profoundly faithful—he tells God the truth about his heart. He does not sanitize his emotions or soften the severity of his suffering. He brings the full weight of his anguish into the presence of the Lord.
    David describes an enemy who has pursued his soul, crushed his life, and driven him into darkness so deep it feels like the grave. His language is heavy, claustrophobic, and suffocating. He feels buried alive. There is no room to breathe, no light to see by, no strength left within him. His spirit is fainting; his heart is overwhelmed.
    This is not poetic exaggeration—it is honest lament. David is teaching us that faithful prayer does not deny suffering; it names it before God.
    Scripture reminds us that this kind of soul-crushing anguish is not unique to David. The people of God have always known seasons when darkness presses in. Job cried out, “Why did I not perish at birth?” (Job 3:11). Jeremiah lamented, “He has walled me about so that I cannot escape; he has made my chains heavy” (Lam. 3:7). Even Elijah, after great victory, sat under a broom tree and asked the Lord to take his life (1 Kings 19:4).
    Derek Kidner captures the weight of David’s words well:
    “Every phrase here is so heavy with distress, that no sufferer need feel unique in what he experiences. And the similarity of those terms to those that describe our Lord’s emotions… remind us that none need feel himself alone, or less than fully understood.” Derek Kidner
    David’s lament reminds us we have an enemy who delights in driving God’s people into despair. Scripture tells us that Satan prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour (1 Pet. 5:8). His strategy has not changed: distract us, isolate us, exhaust us, and ultimately draw our eyes away from Christ.
    And brothers and sisters, many of us know what David is describing. Some of you are walking through a dark night of the soul right now. Others feel the storm clouds gathering. Faithfulness does not insulate us from suffering. If anything, Scripture tells us to expect it. Paul warned Timothy that a time would come when truth would be resisted, suffering would increase, and endurance would be required (2 Tim. 4:3–6). That time feels closer than ever.
    Imagine crawling through a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough to move. The walls press in on your shoulders. The air grows thin. You cannot turn around, and you cannot see the end. Panic begins to rise—not because you are weak, but because the space is oppressive. That is how David describes his suffering. He is hemmed in on every side, pressed down by forces stronger than himself.
    And yet—he is still praying.
    David’s honesty ultimately points us to Jesus. Our Lord Himself entered the deepest darkness. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus confessed, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (Matt. 26:38). On the cross, He cried out from the depths of abandonment: “Father, why have you forsaken me?” He knows the weight of darkness. He has felt the crushing pressure of sorrow. And because of that, Scripture assures us: “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, or our sorrows” (Heb. 4:15).
    Furthermore, Jesus teaches us how to pray in suffering with an honest submissive heart. He prays, “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me… nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). The same Spirit of Christ that sustained him in the garden, now lives in you. Through your tears, if need be, you can pray not my will but your will be done.
    Beloved, God has given us permission to be honest with Him. The Psalms of lament teach us how to grieve in a way that glorifies God. They remind us that faith is not pretending everything is fine; faith is bringing everything that is broken to the Lord.
    In 2026, when you are overwhelmed, say so. When your heart is fainting, confess it. When darkness feels near, bring it into the light of God’s presence. Pray as Jesus prayed. Pray as David prayed-with honest dependence.

    III. Praying with Remembrance: Letting God’s Past Faithfulness Shape Present Hope (Psalm 143:5–6)

    In verses 5 and 6, David makes a decisive turn in his prayer. He does not leave his honesty behind, but he refuses to let despair have the final word. Having poured out the darkness of his soul, David now intentionally remembers. He brings his troubled heart under the discipline of reflection.
    “I remember… I meditate… I ponder.” These are not passive thoughts. David is actively directing his mind. He is choosing to rehearse the works of the Lord. And then comes that small but significant word—Selah. While its precise function remains debated, its purpose is clear enough: pause here. Slow down. Stop long enough to let truth sink beneath the surface. This is not empty silence. It is reflective, worship-shaping meditation.
    David wants the reader to do what he himself is doing—pause long enough to allow God’s past faithfulness to reshape present fear.

    Remembering God’s Works as Creator

    On one level, David is reflecting on the works of God in creation. As a shepherd, David spent long nights under open skies. He knew the quiet wonder of looking up at the stars and considering the majesty of the Lord. Psalm 8 gives voice to that meditation:
    “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him…?” (Ps. 8:3–4)
    David is pondering Genesis 1-2—the God who spoke light into darkness, who flung stars into their courses, who knows each of them by name (Isa. 40:26). The sun obeys Him. The moon reflects His glory. The same God who governs galaxies is the God who hears David’s prayer.
    That truth fuels worship: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Ps. 8:9).
    Brothers and sisters, there is spiritual medicine here. Jesus Himself directs anxious hearts to creation. In Matthew 6, He tells us to consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. If God faithfully sustains what is here today and gone tomorrow, how much more will He care for you—His beloved children (Matt. 6:25–34)?
    There is a reason faithful saints have long walked slowly through God’s world. Charles Spurgeon would take long walks to quiet his soul beneath the weight of God’s providence. Creation preaches (Psalm 19:1-3). It reminds us that the God we pray to is neither fragile nor distracted.

    Remembering God’s Works as Redeemer

    But there is a deeper level to David’s remembrance. He is also reflecting on God’s personal acts of deliverance. David had a history with God. He remembered the lion and the bear (1 Sam. 17:34–37). He remembered Goliath falling before the name of the Lord (1 Sam. 17:45–47). He remembered God preserving his life while fleeing Saul (1 Sam. 23:14). These were memorials of grace—evidence that the Lord had been faithful before and would be faithful again.
    Remembrance fuels confidence. If God has delivered before, He can deliver again.
    And for us, this remembering reaches its climax at the cross and the empty tomb. What enemy can finally overcome those who are in Christ? Sin has been defeated (Rom. 6:6–7). Death has lost its sting (1 Cor. 15:54–57). Satan has been crushed beneath the feet of Christ (Col. 2:15). And Revelation assures us that a day is coming when sin, death, and the devil will be cast away forever (Rev. 20:10, 14).
    Sometimes our souls are like drought-stricken field—cracked earth, hardened soil, no sign of life. When rain finally comes, the ground does not resist it. It opens to receive it. That is David’s posture here. Hands stretched out. Soul thirsty. He is not demanding answers; he is positioning himself to receive grace. Pondering God’s past works of creation and deliverance is a waterfall of grace for your parched soul.
    Beloved, when darkness presses in, remember. Preach to your soul. Rehearse God’s works. Pause long enough—Selah—to let truth reorient your heart. Meditate on creation. Recall redemption. Revisit the cross. Stand again at the empty tomb.
    Do not rush past remembrance. It is often the bridge between despair and renewed trust. And as you remember, let your soul stretch toward God— His past faithfulness is proof for your present hope.

    IV. Praying in Dependence: Casting Ourselves Fully on God’s Steadfast Love (Psalm 143:7–8)

    Psalm 143:7–8 “7 Answer me quickly, O Lord! My spirit fails! Hide not your face from me, lest I be like those who go down to the pit. 8 Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.”
    In verse 7, David pleads with God to hurry to answer him. The word quickly does not capture the urgency in which David is begging God to meet his spiritual and concrete needs. I liken it to a mother whose son has fallen through the ice of a lake. The boy has minutes to live. His mothers runs as fast as she can to the nearest fire station. She rushes the first fireman she sees and franticly begs the fireman to come to the rescue of her son. That is the idea behind “answer me quickly, O Lord.” David’s spirit is failing. He feels as though he is about to die. That what the metaphor “like those who go down to the pit.” The pit can refer to a deep well or a grave. He feels as though he is being buried alive. Once again, you have the idea of your troubles making you feel claustrophobic.

    V. Praying for Transformation: Desiring God’s Will More Than Immediate Relief (Psalm 143:9–10)

    VI. Praying with Confidence: Trusting God to Act for the Sake of His Name (Psalm 143:11–12)

    Psalm 143 reminds us that prayer is not about saying the right words in the right order—it is about drawing near to the right God with the right posture. David begins this psalm overwhelmed and ends it anchored—not because his circumstances have changed, but because his trust has been re-centered on the Lord.
    In our sinful nature, when pressure rises, prayer often fades. We turn inward, rely on ourselves, or grow silent before God. Yet the gospel meets us here. David’s prayer ultimately points us forward to Jesus Christ—the greater Son of David—who prayed in perfect dependence, who trusted the Father completely, and who secured for us bold access to the throne of grace through His cross and resurrection.
    Because Christ has borne our judgment, we can pray without fear. Because Christ has conquered the grave, we can pray with hope. And because Christ lives to intercede for us, we can walk this P.A.T.H. together as a church.
    This week, may we not merely talk about prayer, but return to it. And next week, we will take the next step on this path—learning how the God who hears us also speaks to us through His Word.
    Church, let us be a people who draw near to the Lord in 2026 from humility, with honesty, with remembrance, in dependence, for transformation, and with confidence know God will act for his name sake and our good.

      • Psalm 143ESV

      • Psalm 143ESV

      • Psalm 143:5–6ESV

  • His Glory And My Good
First Baptist Church Litchfield
pastorjason.fbcl@gmail.com
217-324-4232
http://www.firstbaptistlitchfield.org/
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