I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.” Then my spirit made a diligent search:
The Holy Spirit dictated this psalm as a common prayer for the Church in her afflictions, not the private sorrow of one man, but the lamentations of God's chosen people. When we cry to Him, He hears; this is not mere complaint but the sure testimony of His readiness to answer those who call upon Him.
AI summary
Commenting on Psalm 77:1-20
I call to remembrance my song in the night. At other times his spirit had a song for the darkest hour, but now he could only recall the strain as a departed memory. Where is the harp which once thrilled sympathetically to the touch of those joyful fingers? My tongue, hast thou forgotten to praise? Hast thou no skill except in mournful ditties? Ah me, how sadly fallen am I!
Here you see a good man drowning in melancholy, struggling in that horrible pit and miry clay. In his trouble he did not seek distraction or amusement, he sought the Lord Himself. Days of inward trouble must be days of prayer; you must pray your sorrow away, not drink it or laugh it away.
AI summary
Commenting on Psalm 77:1-10