He stood at the edge. Not of a mountain—but something worse. Doubt.
One more thought, one more unanswered prayer, and he would fall. His name was Asaph, a worship leader. A man of God. And yet the ground beneath him—the convictions he once sang about—was cracking.
“I almost slipped,” he admits. “My steps had nearly gone” (Psalm 73:2).
And if you’ve ever looked at the ungodly getting everything they want and whispered to yourself, Why do I even bother trying to be faithful?—then Psalm 73 is your story too.
When the Wicked Seem to Win
Asaph doesn’t begin with his crisis. He begins with what he knows is true: “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart” (v.1).
But it reads like a creed, not a confession. Like someone writing a truth they’ve been taught, but haven’t felt in weeks.
Because what follows is a torrent. Fourteen verses of honesty that most believers would never say out loud:
- The wicked are winning.
- The faithful are suffering.
- Maybe this life of righteousness isn’t worth it.
“I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked,” he confesses (v.3).
And what a picture he paints. They’re fat with comfort. Their lives are free from burdens (v.4). They’re not troubled. Not touched. Their children are healthy. Their finances grow. Their faces beam.
And they mock. They mock God, mock the church, mock righteousness. They step on others and still seem to float upward.
“They set their mouths against the heavens, and their tongue struts through the earth,” he says (v.9).
And when they die? Peacefully. Softly. As if blessed.
Asaph can’t reconcile it. “All in vain have I kept my heart clean,” he says. “I’ve washed my hands in innocence for nothing” (v.13).
This is a man who has suffered for doing right—and he watches others prosper for doing wrong. If you’ve ever said, “I tithed, and still got laid off. I prayed, and still lost them. I tried to do everything right—and it didn’t matter,” then Asaph has already spoken your words.
On the Brink
He nearly walked away.
Not from theology. From trust. From the heart that still whispers, Surely God is good to those who love Him.
His words drip with weariness. “All day long I have been afflicted,” he says. “Every morning brings new discipline” (v.14).
Pain has become his pattern.
But just as he teeters on the edge—one hand still gripping the old beliefs, the other ready to let go—something holds him back.
Not logic. Not proof. Not even a clear answer.
It’s love.
The People of God Still Mattered
“If I had said, ‘I will speak thus,’ I would have betrayed your children” (v.15).
He couldn’t bring himself to shout his doubts in the sanctuary. Not because he was a coward—but because he still loved the people of God. Still saw their beauty. Still respected their walk.
He saw the patient widow. The kind elder. The steady, quiet saint who’d buried two children and still came to prayer meeting.
He couldn’t dismiss them. He couldn’t hurt them.
He didn’t want to be the reason someone else’s foot slipped.
And so he didn’t speak. He stayed. He brought his storm into the sanctuary. And that’s when the change came.
Everything Changed in the Sanctuary
“When I thought how to understand this, it was too painful for me—until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I understood their end” (vv.16–17).
He saw something in worship that he couldn’t see in the world.
He saw the end.
The wicked had seemed untouchable—until he realized they were on ice. Slippery places. One breath from God, and they’d fall forever.
“Truly, you set them in slippery places; you make them fall to ruin” (v.18).
They weren’t secure. They were doomed. Their happiness was a dream—gone the moment they woke up in eternity.
“As a dream when one awakes, so, O Lord, when you rouse yourself, you despise their image” (v.20).
He had been envying people who were headed for destruction. Coveting lives that were beautiful coffins.
The Shame of Forgetting
“When my soul was embittered… I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you” (vv.21–22).
He felt the sting of how far he’d gone.
He had thought like an animal. Living for the now. Forgetting the eternal. Forgetting the God who made him.
And yet—God hadn’t let go.
The Grip That Held
“Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand” (v.23).
That word—Nevertheless—is everything.
Even when Asaph doubted, God was holding him.
He hadn’t stayed faithful because he was strong. He’d stayed because God was. God had grabbed him in the slipping. Gripped him at the edge. Kept him when he was ready to quit.
And that same hand, Asaph realized, would guide him all the way home.
“You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory” (v.24).
He Is My Portion
Now Asaph is not envious. He is awakened.
“Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you” (v.25).
He doesn’t want the houses of the wicked. He wants the presence of God.
And even when his body fails—and it will—he has this: “God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (v.26).
Not success. Not long life. Not comfort. God.
The Final Word: It Was Worth It
The fog has lifted. He sees the wicked’s future—and it breaks his envy.
“Those who are far from you shall perish” (v.27).
But he isn’t far.
“But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works” (v.28).
He doesn’t envy them anymore.
He pities them.
Because no matter how good it looks right now, five minutes in hell will convince the wicked that their pleasures were poison.
And five minutes in glory will make every groan of the godly worth it.
So if your feet are slipping—if you’re tired of doing right while the world rewards the wicked—don’t leave the sanctuary.
Stay. See. Sing.
And let your soul say it too: It is good to be near God.
See also: Psalm 63 – Everyone Gave Up on Me – Except God
Recommended Resource: If you’re studying the Psalms, you won’t want to miss my in-depth review of The Treasury of David by Charles Spurgeon. This timeless masterpiece unpacks the Psalms with rich theological insight, making it essential for devotion, sermon prep, or deep Bible study. Read the full review here.
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