My days are like an evening shadow;
I wither away like grass.
But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever. (Psalm 102:11–12)
When I turn right off the north Wisconsin highway onto the long gravel road, a sense of familiarity sweeps over me. I know what’s coming. The double row of evergreens, the garden plots, the small orchard of crabapple trees, the old farmhouse with its small rooms and big picture windows overlooking fields of hay. I love this place, now filled with memories of family members whose pilgrimage has led them to golden shores. The old homestead has a comfort all its own. I don’t want it to change.
We tend to like what outlasts us. We pass down family heirlooms from generation to generation, treasuring the simple items our forebears owned and handled. We marvel at structures that have stood the test of time, pillars and walls that once played host to the crumbling empires of man. We stand in awe before soaring trees that were saplings when our Savior trod the ancient hills of Palestine.
We are so different. Our years are few and fleeting. Perhaps, if given strength and health, we will reach eighty — brief decades filled with ceaseless change. “My days,” the psalmist admits, “are like an evening shadow; I wither away like grass” (Psalm 102:11). We love and admire that which lasts, yet we ourselves leave like grass. If we follow the strings that tug our hearts toward permanence, where do they lead?
Pulling the String
The longing for permanence runs through Psalm 102. The string begins with the opening header: “A prayer of one afflicted, when he is faint.” A prayer of one upon whom finitude and changing circumstances press hard. A prayer of one whose “days pass away like smoke,” a wispy cloud dispersed by the breeze (Psalm 102:3). A prayer of one whose job has been whisked away and whose financial future is now jeopardized. A prayer of one whose home has been smashed by a Midwest whirlwind. A prayer of one whose spouse has deserted the family. A prayer of one who feels like a fragile sparrow on a housetop, exposed to the sun’s scorching heat and the burning agony of loneliness (Psalm 102:7).
Following the string that runs through Psalm 102 is like tugging on the longing in our own hearts. Faced with upheaval, we long for calmer seas. It’s tempting in our affliction to believe that the rest we long for will come from more stable circumstances. But like the shade of a small cloud on a hot day, such hope passes swiftly. Welcome as these respites may be, they are no source of permanent comfort. And they are not where the psalmist secures his hope.
‘You Are the Same’
In his anguish, the psalmist needs a foundation he knows will not shift beneath his feet. He longs for a permanent, unchanging source of hope. For him, there is only One who fulfills this longing and only One to whom he prays: “But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever” (Psalm 102:12). He takes refuge in the God who does not change. Though his own circumstances shift like so much sand, God’s throne is secure forever. Though his own days are short, God’s “years endure throughout all generations” (verse 24). Though heaven and earth will perish, God remains (verse 26). “You are the same, and your years have no end” (verse 27). Here is the One we long for. Only in him is our desire for permanence met.
Even still, we might ask ourselves, Why is God’s unchanging nature a source of hope to me in my anguish?
We fade quickly. Our relationships sour. Possessions we thought secure disappear overnight. Therefore, we long for One to be with us who is unlike us. Bound by time, we long for One who is timeless. For, should he be like us, any confidence of his acting on our behalf would be as flimsy as a house built on sand. In the words of Stephen Charnock, “If he had a beginning, he might have an end, and so all our happiness, hope, and being would expire with him” (The Existence and Attributes of God, 279). But he has no beginning or end. And therefore “it is not agreeable to God’s eternity to forget his people, to whom he hath from eternity borne good-will” (299). You, O Lord, are the same.
So, when this God sets his heart on his people before the foundation of the world, he remains the same in every change. The plans that he “formed of old” are “faithful and sure” because he is the bedrock upon which they rest (Isaiah 25:1). Eternally he is Father, Son, and Spirit — a Trinity of fathomless and unchanging love — and he intends to satisfy his people with his love. His heart toward his people whom he predestined to be his children is absolutely steadfast.
But I have lost everything! God is good. Therefore, in every season of change, throughout all our years, he never ceases to be our good shepherd (Genesis 48:15).
But I have been abandoned! God is love. Therefore, no matter how little we may be loved by friends, family, or even a faithless spouse, he never ceases to shower us with his steadfast love (Lamentations 3:22).
But I am wasting away with grief! God is light. Therefore, in the dark vale of tears, he ever shines the light of his countenance upon us (Numbers 6:24–26).
The psalmist places all his hope in this God. And knowing that the Lord God is eternal, he prays with confidence despite the forlornness of his situation. “You will arise and have pity on Zion” (Psalm 102:13). The Lord does regard “the prayer of the destitute” (verse 17). He hears “the groans of the prisoners” and sets free “those who were doomed to die” (verse 20). The future generations “shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you” (verse 28). The psalmist grounds his assurance in the fact that God is the same. And because his God does not change, his hope has an unwavering foundation.
Rock of Steadfast Hope
Often in Scripture, God describes himself to us as a Rock (Deuteronomy 32:31; 1 Samuel 2:2; Psalms 18:2–3; 62:2). The force of the metaphor is almost intuitive. Rocks are hard and enduring. The ones we can stand on are, for all practical purposes, immovable. From the perspective of our few years, they are unchanging. When God is a refuge for us, when we take a stand on the Rock, when we are hidden in the Rock of Ages, his unchanging nature means that no matter how volatile our own lives may be, we can rest secure on this Rock.
You, O Lord, are the same. All around, I see the motions of the heavenly bodies. Year by year, I experience the turning seasons. My days are as brief as twilight shadows. They are filled with growth and decay, health and sickness, uncertainty. I love stability in my life, and I enjoy those things you made to change little because you made me to love you, the One with whom there is no change. Forever you are God. And because you are my refuge, I need not fear, even if the entire earth should give way beneath my feet.
In all the changes you direct my way, I will be still. For you, the unchanging God, are my refuge and my strength. You are enthroned forever. O Rock Immovable, I trust in you and rest on you forever.
Desiring God