Have you ever felt like the world’s spinning out of control—like injustice is winning and God’s nowhere to be found? It’s that sinking feeling when you see the news or face something tough in your own life, and you can’t help but wonder, Where are You, God? If that’s ever crossed your mind, you’re in good company. Thousands of years ago, someone poured those exact feelings into Psalm 10. It’s this raw, honest cry—almost like a friend venting over coffee—about why God seems distant when everything’s falling apart. But here’s the thing: it’s not just a complaint. It’s a window into something deeper, something true. And when I think about it, I see Jesus all over it—His life, His words, His resurrection—showing us that God’s not far off at all. He’s right here, especially when it hurts.
Picture the psalmist, frustrated and bold, asking, “Why do You stand far away, Lord? Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble?” That’s real, isn’t it? It’s not polished or polite—it’s the kind of question you whisper when you’re at your wit’s end. He’s teaching us something wise here: it’s okay to be honest with God. Faith doesn’t mean faking it. It means bringing your mess to Him, even the ugly parts.
Now, think about Jesus for a second. He gets this. On the cross, He shouted something so similar: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” It’s haunting, right? Jesus, God Himself, stepped into our pain so deeply that He felt that same ache of abandonment. So when we feel like God’s hiding, we can look at Jesus and know He’s been there. He’s not some distant King rolling His eyes at our complaints—He’s the one who walks through the fire with us.
Then the psalmist shifts gears, pointing fingers at the wicked. He talks about their pride—how they chase after the weak, brag about their selfish desires, and act like God doesn’t even exist. It’s this arrogance that fuels so much of the world’s brokenness. And doesn’t that sound familiar? We see it everywhere—people putting themselves first, stepping on others to get ahead. But Jesus? He’s the total opposite. He said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” That’s not just a pretty line—it’s a game-changer. He didn’t strut around demanding worship; He knelt down and washed feet. He lived humbly, loved the overlooked, and showed us that real strength isn’t about pride—it’s about sacrifice. He’s the truth that cuts through all the lies we tell ourselves, the way that leads us out of our mess, and the life that promises something better.
Speaking of the overlooked, Psalm 10 has this beautiful moment where the psalmist says God sees the hurting. He’s not blind to the orphans, the broken, the ones crushed by life. And Jesus proves it. When He was here, He didn’t chase the spotlight—He hung out with the people society ignored. The poor, the sick, the outcasts—those were His people. He said He came to bring good news to the poor, freedom to the captives, sight to the blind. That’s not just talk; He did it. He fed crowds, healed lepers, and stood up for the powerless. And on the cross, He took on the worst injustice—death itself—so we could be free. If you ever doubt God cares, just look at Jesus. He’s God’s heart walking around in sandals.
But waiting for God to fix things? That’s the hard part. The psalmist groans about how the wicked seem to get away with everything, thriving while the good suffer. It’s maddening when evil wins the day. Yet the psalmist clings to hope, saying God is King forever, that He hears the humble. And for us, that hope explodes into reality on Easter. Think about it: Good Friday was brutal—Jesus dead, evil laughing, hope buried. But then Sunday came. The tomb was empty, the stone rolled away, and Jesus walked out alive. That’s the moment everything flipped. His resurrection is God saying, “I’ve got this.” It’s the proof that justice might take time, but it’s coming. Easter’s the answer to every cry in Psalm 10—God’s not just watching; He’s winning.
So where does that leave us? Psalm 10 lets us wrestle with the hard stuff—lamenting, questioning, hoping. But Jesus ties it all together. He’s the Way through our confusion, the Truth that holds us steady, the Life that beats death every time. His resurrection isn’t just a story—it’s the reality we get to live in. In a world that’s often dark and unfair, He’s the light that doesn’t quit.
Let’s choose that reality. Let’s live in the truth of who Jesus is—the God who hears us, sees us, and rose from the dead to prove He’s got the final say. It’s not about ignoring the pain—it’s about trusting that He’s bigger than it. Let’s be people who lean into His way, stand up for His truth, and breathe His life into everything we do. Because in Jesus, we’ve got a hope that nothing—not even the worst injustice—can shake.