Mike Davenport's sermon, 'When All the Lights Go Out,' explores Psalm 13, which is divided into three sections: a sense of isolation, a stimulus to invocation, and a song of inspiration. David, feeling abandoned and in darkness, repeatedly asks God 'how long' he must endure his sorrow and the triumph of his enemies. Davenport explains that while it is not wrong to complain to God, it is different from complaining of God. This sense of isolation becomes a stimulus for David to invoke God's presence, seeking enlightenment and understanding. Despite the darkness, David's trust in God's mercy transforms his heart, leading to rejoicing and singing. The sermon emphasizes the importance of trusting in God's mercy, even when circumstances remain unchanged, and highlights prayer as a critical response during periods of darkness. Davenport encourages believers to maintain faith in what is true in the light, even when surrounded by darkness, drawing parallels with biblical figures like Job and the teachings of Isaiah 50.

How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? How long will my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and hear me, O Lord my God. Enlighten my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemies say I have prevailed against him, lest those who trouble me rejoice when I am moved. But I have trusted in your mercy.

My heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt bountifully with me." Let's pray once again. Oh Lord, we just sang the words, you, oh Christ, are our light, our strength, our song. We pray, oh God, that we would know your nearness. For any who may know of what David felt here, may they take his prescription that he gives And may we know your presence walking with us.

We pray in Christ's holy name, amen. Have you ever been at that place where David found himself at the opening of this Psalm? Do the opening words of this Psalm, do they strike a chord of familiarity in your own experience whether in the past or maybe right now in the present. Luther said of this psalm that this is a prayer full of the sighings and groanings of an afflicted heart in the hour of darkness and almost overwhelmed under that darkness with the extreme of grief and sorrow and driven to the greatest straight or distress of mind. The title of this message is, When All the Lights Go Out.

When all the lights go out. And I have divided this psalm into three sections. First, a sense of isolation, a sense of isolation, then a stimulus to invocation, a stimulus to invocation, and then finally as we end the psalm, a song of inspiration, a song of inspiration. So first we see a sense of isolation, verses one and two. How long, O Lord, will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul having sorrow in my heart daily? How long will my enemy be exalted over me?" Note the repetition of the words, how long, how long, how long, How long? Four times David asks the question. Have you ever asked God that question?

Have you ever asked God that question? Is it even appropriate to ask God that question? Maybe you have felt like directing that question to God, but maybe you also felt like it would not be the righteous thing to do. Well, I believe the rightness or the wrongness of it depends on the way it is asked. We have in our Bibles examples of saints who complained to God and they were not rebuked because of it.

You see it's It's not wrong to complain to God, but it is wrong, a totally different thing to complain about or to complain of God. There was definitely a protracted period of time that has already lapsed that leads David to ask this question. In this protracted time, David has sensed that God has abandoned him. Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?

I know by my own experience at times what David is feeling. I know what it is to have a sense that all the lights have gone out. Oh, just for the smallest gleam of light, just the smallest gleam, because the smallest source of light, it seems bright in utter darkness, does it not? That little nightlight, when you first turn out the lights, it's like, is it on? And if you wake up in the middle of the night and have to walk out of the room, it's like, oh, that's so bright.

Just the smallest gleam. The Smallest gleam. But alas, sometimes it seems that God has forgotten you. It seems that he has hidden his face from you. Others talk of such sweet times of communion with him, but for you it seems that he has withdrawn.

And he says, How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? Such times can bring overwhelming sorrow of heart. And like David, it can be a daily thing. It can be so overwhelming that that You feel as though you're left to the counsel of your own soul. That's it.

The heavens, it seems, become as brass. It seems as though anything you say comes back to you. It bounces back. It doesn't go through. There's nowhere else you can go.

It seems no one will understand and you feel as though you're the only one in the world And it's up to you to figure it all out and to get out of that place that you are in. Luther says of this question, how long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? He says this, the unhappy man's heart is as a raging sea in which all sorts of counsels move up and down. He tries on all hands to find a hole through which he can make his escape. He thinks on various plans and still is utterly at a loss.

What to advise? As soon as the face of God is turned away from us presently, follow consternation, distraction, darkness in the understanding and uncertainty of counsel, so that we grope, as it were, in midnight and seek everywhere how we may find escape." And he's left, as it were, to the counsels of his own mind, and to that seeming utter darkness not knowing which way to turn. Have you ever been there before at that place where your experience doesn't match your theology. You know in your minds, you know that God is there and you know that he's still at work But you don't have any sense of him at all. You may have had reason to say, like the Shulamite woman, by night on my bed I sought the one I love.

I sought him, but I did not find him. I will rise now, I said, and go about the city, in the streets, and in the squares. I will seek the one I love." I sought him, but I did not find him. Job felt the same way that David did. He says in chapter 23 verses 8 and 9, look, I go forward, but he is not there.

And backwards, but I cannot perceive him. When he works on the left hand, I cannot behold him. When he turns to the right hand, I cannot see him. Well, here's the blessing. David does not drown in the slough of despond.

He doesn't drown. He does not give in to his circumstances or his feelings. His sense of isolation actually becomes to him a stimulus to invocation. That's the second point. A stimulus to invocation, verses three and four.

Consider and hear me, O Lord my God, enlighten my eyes that lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemies say I have prevailed against them, lest those who trouble me rejoice when I am moved or removed." That word invocation that I'm using, it's defined by Webster as an act of calling for the assistance or presence of any being, and particularly in association with deity, calling out to God for assistance in his presence. And David's cry here is, in fact, an invocation. He is calling upon God yet again for a sense of his presence and for a sense of his assistance in his darkness. Now the sense of the wording consider and hear me is kindly regard and answer. Kindly regard and answer.

And as we have seen already, David has taken counsel in his own soul and has gotten him nowhere. But this sense of abandonment in the midst of the darkness, it's not hardened his heart and it has not shut his mouth. Rather, it has become a stimulus for him to call upon his God again. He's been calling because he says, how long will you remain silent? Forever?

But he calls again and again and again. And he desires that God would enlighten his eyes, would enlighten his eyes. Not that God would bring light as it were before him, but that his eyes would be enlightened. He wants God to enable him to see the situation as God indeed sees it and then to respond as he, David, should respond. You see, David's in the dark, but God's not.

God's not in the dark. To David, it all seems out of control. But God is the one who is in absolute control. The darkness, the abandonment, the sense of aloneness, it's all the greater for David because of the presence of his enemy, the enemy who would trouble him. For David, that enemy was most likely a physical enemy, because we read throughout the Scriptures, David had many physical enemies.

For us, that enemy is most often a spiritual enemy, even the very enemy of our soul, the devil, who seeks like David's enemy to prevail over us, who longs to devour us, who longs to rejoice over even the slightest movement away from Christ. When times come when it seems that all the lights have gone out, in those seasons we do well to follow David's example and pray the more. Pray the more. Too often our response to such darkness and discouragement is to withdraw from prayer. But we should rather be like the blind Bartimaeus.

The more the circumstances mounted against him, when all around told him to keep his mouth shut, He cried out all the more, Son of David, have mercy on me. In all of his darkness, not knowing where Jesus was, but knowing He's there somewhere. Son of David, have mercy on me." And it didn't matter what they said about him. He cried out. I trust you're very familiar with Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.

And do you remember Christians walk through the valley of the shadow of death? And when you're reading some of these things in Pilgrim's Progress, consider what Bunyan himself was going through in these times when he's penning these words. He said, I saw then in my dream so far as this valley reached there was on the right hand a very deep ditch. That ditch is it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and if both there miserably perished again. Behold, on the left hand there was very dangerous quagmire into which if even a good man falls he can find no bottom of his foot to stand on.

The pathway was here also exceeding narrow and therefore a good Christian was the more put to it for when he sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the right hand he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other Also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on and I heard him here sigh bitterly, much like David. For besides the dangers mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark that all times when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not where or upon what he should set it next. About the midst of this valley I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard by the wayside. Now, thought Christian, what shall I do?

And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance with sparks and hideous noises, things that cared not for Christian's sword as did Apollyon before, that he was forced to put up his sword and but take himself to another weapon called all prayer. All prayer in the dark. A ditch to the right, a quagmire to the left, and hell itself standing agape. Sometimes when it feels like we can't get anything from the word of God and the sword doesn't do it, we can turn to all prayer. It is, it is often misunderstood a weapon mentioned in Ephesians 6.

Dear ones, this is the right response in seasons of deep darkness, in seasons of aloneness, to simply pray, to pray. And though the heavens may seem like brass, we know, we know that God does hear the cry of his people. Though he may not answer right away, though there may be not tangible results in response to our cries, yet we know, we know that God's ear is inclined to the cry of his people and his heart stands at the ready to help them in the time most conducive to our greatest good and his greatest glory. And so we find this this blessed movement in this song. What started as a sense of isolation stimulates within David an invocation of God's felt presence and assistance.

And though the darkness has not yet been lifted, his heart has. His heart's been lifted. And so we come to this third point that I'm calling the song of inspiration, the song of inspiration, verses five and six. But I have trusted in your mercy. My heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt bountifully with me." We have once again here in scripture that beautiful conjunction, but. But in spite of the still present darkness and isolation, David is still trusting in the mercy of God. The wording seems to indicate having trusted and yet still trusting. Having trusted and yet still trusting. And we see this glorious progression in the heart of this servant of God.

W.S. Plummer beautifully captures this progression. He writes this, thus pleading, he increases in faith. Thus believing, he rejoices in God. Thus rejoicing, he breaks forth into song of praise.

First, a fact, just a mere fact is stated, I have trusted in your mercy. Then a desire is expressed, let my heart rejoice in your salvation. Then a fixed purpose is announced, I will sing unto Jehovah. Dear ones, the circumstances are not changing. The heart of David is.

The heart of David is changing even though the circumstances aren't. And sometimes that is the way that God works. Sometimes that is the way he answers our prayer. We ask him to change our circumstances, but sometimes he changes our hearts and not the circumstances. Most often God's purpose in such times of darkness is to actually bring us to a place of worship, of continuing to trust in His mercy, knowing that we will have reason to rejoice in his salvation.

And the natural outworking of this heart that becomes full of gratitude for God's mercy and salvation, it's singing. It's singing. How was David able to see through the darkness and burst forth into a song of inspiration? Well Plummer says the answer is this. He says there is no better assurance of final victory than that drawn from the grace which enables us to trust in the divine mercy in the darkest hours.

In the darkness of hours. He calls that a victory. In the darkest of hours just to lean a little bit on that mercy of God. In that victory, that's a victory, in the midst of darkness, that helps us to have hope for final victory, that this darkness will come to an end. I have a dear pastor friend who has walked through dark waters in his life.

After the death of his dear wife, he wrote down in the front cover of his Bible, never doubt in the dark what you know to be true in the light. Never doubt in the dark what you know to be true in the light. Christian was walking through that shadow of death, that that dark valley. Well how does Psalm 23 begin? The Lord is my shepherd.

You see when we're partaking of the the green grass and the still waters, when all our enemies are put at bay, oh yeah, the Lord's my shepherd, Amen. But what we know to be true in the day, what we know to be true when we're eating that green grass and drinking the waters from that still moving stream, it's true in the valley, It's true in the dark. You see that's what David was doing here in Psalm 13. He did not doubt in the dark what he knew to be true in the light. That is what Job did throughout the hardest and darkest days of his life.

He refused to doubt in the dark what he knew to be true in the light. And dear ones, that is what Christ himself did in Isaiah 50. In Isaiah 50, Christ refused to doubt in the dark what he knew to be true of his heavenly father in the light. And so we find this admonition in verse 10 of Isaiah 50, who among you fears the Lord? Who obeys the voice of his servant who walks in darkness and has no light, let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely upon his God.

But oh, when gloomy doubts prevail, I fear to call thee mine. The spring of comfort seems to fail, and all my hopes decline. Yet, gracious God, where shall I flee? Thou art my only trust and still, still, still my soul would cleave to thee the prostrate in the dust. Hast thou not bidden me?

Seek thy face and shall I seek in vain? Can the ear of sovereign grace be deaf when I complain? No no Still, still the ear of sovereign grace attends the mourner's prayer, oh may I ever find access to breathe my sorrows there. Thy mercy seat is open still. Here let my soul retreat with humble hope.

Attend thy will and wait beneath thy feet. Let us pray. O gracious God, for any who have grown weary, for any for whom the way has become narrow and dark and they're weak and the knees feeble and their hands do droop. Oh God, come, come, give strength. May they truly learn to wait upon you, knowing that if they do, in time they will renew their strength.

They will mount up with wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary and walk and not faint. Stayed upon you, our hearts are truly blessed, finding as you promised perfect peace and rest. Oh God, may we retreat afresh to that blessed mercy seat and we thank you that it's a place that can be found even in the darkest where we know not which way to turn and in your name we pray all of these things. Amen.

We are dismissed.