A Restless Mind
“My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.” — Psalm 22:2, NIV
Silence the noise in my mind, Lord; I want to hear only you.
This is a prayer I have come to know intimately in the past few years of my life. Maybe you can relate. Sometimes your thoughts just will not stop; your mind will not give you any rest. One thought leads to another, which leads to another, and before you know it, silence seems so far off and out of reach.
Apparently, we are not alone! David, in Psalm 22, is crying out to the Lord, expressing this same kind of restlessness. “My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.” His heart and mind remain troubled, tossing and turning without peace or rest. He has been praying persistently, and God still seems distant and silent. Meanwhile, his mind is loud, restless, and overwhelming. David is not just complaining or slightly worried—he is in deep agony. He feels separated from the God he once felt so close to—he feels abandoned.
Often, when God feels silent, our minds become even louder. We start trying to fill in the silence ourselves. We replay conversations, anticipate outcomes, question decisions, revisit old fears, and try to make sense of all the things we were never meant to control. The less clarity we have, the harder our minds can try to work to manufacture it.
That is why David is so incredibly relatable—he is crying out both day and night. His mind is not shutting off simply because the sun goes down. There is no break in the worry, no mental “exhale,” no sense that the situation has resolved enough for him to finally rest.
“Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises” (Psalm 22:3, NIV).
In the midst of these feelings, David chooses the “yet.” In the midst of everything he is feeling, David chooses to remember who God is. He wills his noisy mind and abandoned-feeling heart to turn back to the truth that God is still Sovereign, still holy, still worthy of praise, and still ultimately in control. His circumstances certainly did not change between verses 2 and 3. We see no evidence that God suddenly answered or David suddenly understood all that was happening. He just chooses to remember who God is.
Too often we think peace will come once we understand everything. Once the answer arrives; once the decision becomes obvious; once the relationship changes; or once the situation settles down. (I personally am a chronic over-researcher/analyzer/information gatherer). But David finds something to hold onto before any of that happens—he remembers the character of God.
“In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame” (Psalm 22:4-5, NIV).
David turns his attention to remembering who this God is—to reflect on the past evidence of his faithfulness. This is not a new, unexperienced god in training. This is THE GOD. This is the same God who parted the Red Sea, led the people out of Egypt, provided manna on the journey, defeated armies, and rescued his people over and over and over again. They trusted—he delivered. Essentially, David is reminding himself: I know who I am talking to.
Sometimes, when our minds are restless, that is exactly what we need to remember. Not the answer or the outcome—but the character of the One we are bringing it all to. Because an anxious or restless mind has a sneaky way of making the immediate problem(s) feel bigger than everything else. Whatever is unresolved begins to consume our attention until it feels like the truest thing in our minds.
David interrupts the spiral by remembering—God has been faithful before, God has delivered before, God has heard before, God has remained God before—and he is still God now.
By remembering who he is crying out to, David is putting his feelings in their proper place. That does not mean what he was feeling was not real or valid—they absolutely were. David does not dismiss his feelings, and God does not ask us to pretend we are not anxious, confused, disappointed, hurt, or exhausted. But David was not going to let his feelings dictate his view of God or rule over his life. He chose to acknowledge that God has the authority, the power, and the final say.
There is a difference between acknowledging what we feel and allowing what we feel to become the authority. Our minds may tell us that everything is falling apart. Fear may tell us that the worst possible outcome is inevitable. Restlessness may convince us that if we just think about something long enough, or gather enough information, we can finally control it. But our thoughts are not always telling the truth (in fact, they rarely are).
That is why we must learn from David and practice remembering. We must bring our minds back to what is steady when everything inside of us feels unsettled. We remember who God has been, what he has done, what he has promised, and who he still is today. And, when we need help remembering, all we have to do is go to God’s Word—the evidence of his faithfulness is constant throughout Scripture!
David ends up praying: “But you, LORD, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me” (Psalm 22:19, NIV).
What an incredible prayer: do not be far from me. Over all the fear, unanswered questions, and mental restlessness, what David ultimately wants is God himself. That should be our one true desire—to be close to our Father, our Protector, our Guide, our Savior, our Good Shepherd. In drawing nearer to him, we find our ultimate source of strength and rest.
David does not pretend the distress is gone. He simply chooses to return to what he knows: God has been faithful before, he is still sovereign now, and silence does not mean absence.
When our minds cannot or will not settle, we can do the same—cry out, remember, and keep bringing our thoughts back to what is true. We can remember his faithfulness. We can remind ourselves who is still on the throne. We can bring every racing thought back before the God who already knows the beginning, the middle, and the end. And we can choose to praise him in the midst of our restlessness.
bytaylormcgee
