Psalm 77: When God Seems to Have Forgotten You

Core Theme: For when sleepless nights and unanswered questions pile up — and your soul refuses to be comforted

(Related Theme: This psalm also carries a strong note of Doubt & Wavering Faith — see Verses 7–9 below.)

Background

I have to admit that when I first read through the Psalms, I simply didn’t get it. They all seemed alike, each one blending into the next. That changed one evening while I was watching the television series The Chosen*. In a series of scenes, a psalm was being recited, though I’m not sure I even realized at the time that it was a psalm. Something in those words stirred me so deeply that I had to look them up, and that is how I found Psalm 77. Until then I had never memorized a single verse of Scripture, yet I knew I had to memorize this psalm. Long as it is, it became the first passage of Scripture I ever committed to memory.

The psalmist’s anguish is so real and so powerful. God seems silent, and the psalm never tells us that he received the answer he was looking for. And yet, in a deeper way, he did. Psalm 77 opened my eyes to the wonder and beauty of all the Psalms, and today I wouldn’t trade the psalms I have memorized for any amount of gold. They are far too valuable. “More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold…” (Psalm 19:10).

Psalm 77 was written by Asaph, one of the chief musicians David appointed to lead worship before the ark of the Lord (1 Chronicles 16:4–5). It doesn’t tell us what trouble he was facing, only that it kept him awake at night and that God seemed to have gone silent. The psalm falls into two halves. The first is a sleepless night of questions. The second is a deliberate turning of the mind to everything God has done.

Psalm 77 (KJV)

1 To the chief Musician, to Jeduthun, A Psalm of Asaph. I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice; and he gave ear unto me.

2 In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.

3 I remembered God, and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed. Selah.

4 Thou holdest mine eyes waking: I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

5 I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.

6 I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent search.

7 Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more?

8 Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore?

9 Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Selah.

10 And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High.

11 I will remember the works of the LORD: surely I will remember thy wonders of old.

12 I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings.

13 Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary: who is so great a God as our God?

14 Thou art the God that doest wonders: thou hast declared thy strength among the people.

15 Thou hast with thine arm redeemed thy people, the sons of Jacob and Joseph. Selah.

16 The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee; they were afraid: the depths also were troubled.

17 The clouds poured out water: the skies sent out a sound: thine arrows also went abroad.

18 The voice of thy thunder was in the heaven: the lightnings lightened the world: the earth trembled and shook.

19 Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known.

20 Thou leddest thy people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

The heart of it

Psalm 77 is a journey from one kind of remembering to another. In the first half, Asaph remembers God, and it only makes him more troubled. He can’t sleep, he can’t speak, and his questions grow darker through the night: Has God cast me off forever? Is His mercy gone? Has He forgotten to be gracious? Then in verse 10 something shifts. Asaph stops looking at his own pain and begins to deliberately remember what God has done. He never tells us his circumstances changed. What changed was where he fixed his eyes.

That is the quiet answer of Psalm 77. In the silence, God gives us Himself: His past faithfulness, His mighty works, His unchanging character. Jeremiah found the same thing in his own darkest hour: “This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:21–23).

Walking through it

Verses 1–4: “To the chief Musician, to Jeduthun, A Psalm of Asaph. I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice; and he gave ear unto me.”

Asaph cried out to God, and he says God gave ear. Yet the next verses show he didn’t feel answered. “My sore ran in the night, and ceased not” carries the sense of a hand stretched out in prayer all night long without letting go. His soul “refused to be comforted.” Even remembering God troubled him, because the God he remembered seemed so far from what he was living through. And then the most honest line of all: “Thou holdest mine eyes waking.” He couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t even put his pain into words. If you’ve known nights like that, nights when prayer itself seems to bounce off the ceiling, Asaph has been there before you.

Verses 7–9: “Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more?”

Here the questions pour out, six of them in three verses. Will God reject me forever? Will He never show favor again? Is His mercy completely gone? Has His promise failed? Has He forgotten to be gracious? Has He shut up His tender mercies in anger? These are the questions that rise in the dark. It’s striking that they’re recorded in Scripture at all. God doesn’t ask us to pretend we never think them. Moments of doubt and wavering faith like these are not the end of faith. Asaph is still bringing his questions to God, not walking away from Him. And every one of them has an answer elsewhere in His Word. To the question “Hath God forgotten?” the Lord Himself replies: “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee” (Isaiah 49:15).

Verses 10–12: “And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High.”

This is the turning point of the psalm, and maybe one of the great turning points in all the Psalms. Asaph recognizes something: “This is my infirmity” [my weakness]. The despair speaking in the night was his own weakness talking, not the truth about God. So he makes a choice. Notice how often he says “I will”: I will remember. Surely I will remember. I will meditate. I will talk of Thy doings. This isn’t a feeling that washed over him. It’s a decision. When everything in you wants to sink, you can choose to set your mind on what God has done. The “right hand of the most High” is the hand that has never failed His people.

Verses 13–15: “Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary: who is so great a God as our God?”

As soon as Asaph starts remembering, his whole tone changes. The man who couldn’t speak in verse 4 now can’t stop speaking of God’s greatness: “who is so great a God as our God?” He remembers that God is “the God that doest wonders,” and above all that He redeemed His people with His own arm. The answer to Asaph’s darkest questions was found in the character of God: holy, mighty, and a Redeemer. For us, the greatest act of redemption is the cross, where Christ bought us back at the cost of His own life.

Verses 16–20: “The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee; they were afraid: the depths also were troubled.”

Asaph’s memory lands on the Red Sea. The waters saw God and trembled. The skies thundered, the earth shook, and God made a path straight through the sea (Exodus 14:21–22). Then comes the line that has meant so much to so many in silent seasons: “Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known.” Israel walked through on dry ground, yet when the waters closed again, God’s footprints couldn’t be seen. He had been there the whole time, working in a way no one could trace. That’s often how He works in our lives too. “Thus saith the LORD, which maketh a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters” (Isaiah 43:16). And the psalm ends gently: “Thou leddest thy people like a flock.” Even when His footsteps can’t be seen, the Shepherd is leading. Jesus said of His sheep, “…neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:28).

Carrying this forward

If the Lord has already brought you through a season of sleepless nights and unanswered questions, look back and notice how He led you, even when you couldn’t see His footsteps. It’s so easy, once the night is over and life gets “better,” to slowly drift and forget the way He carried you. Do what Asaph did and make remembering a habit. Talk about what God has done. Write it down. Commit His Word to memory. Those remembered works and memorized words will be there for you the next time the darkness comes.

If you’re in that night right now, eyes held waking, soul refusing comfort, questions pressing in, you’re not the first, and you’re not forgotten. You may not get the answer you’re looking for tonight. But you can make Asaph’s choice: “I will remember.” Turn your mind from the questions to the God who parted the sea. Remember what He did at the cross. Remember that His mercies are new every morning. His footsteps may not be known to you right now, but His way is through the very waters you’re facing, and He is leading you like a shepherd, holding you in His hand.

*This is not an endorsement of The Chosen. From a biblical standpoint, the show has both strengths and weaknesses.