Kingdom Seekers Circle

Emotional Meditation—By Micah Siemens

Psalm 10 doesn’t open with a song—it opens with a sigh. “Why, Lord, do You stand far off? Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble?” It’s the kind of question we’ve all whispered when the silence feels too long.

What follows is a grim portrait of the wicked. David doesn’t sugarcoat it. He sketches arrogance so thick you can almost taste it: “In his pride the wicked man does not seek Him; in all his thoughts there is no room for God.” That line chills me. Imagine a life so full of self, there’s no space left for God.

The wicked strut. They prosper. They sneer. They curse and lie, and somehow they keep climbing. It’s the age-old problem: why do the arrogant flourish while the humble suffer? David gives us their inner monologue: “He says to himself, ‘Nothing will ever shake me.’” That’s pride distilled—an illusion of permanence.

The imagery turns darker still: “His mouth is full of lies and threats; trouble and evil are under his tongue. He lies in wait near the villages; from ambush he murders the innocent.” This isn’t just prideful talk—it’s predatory living. The wicked here aren’t passive sinners. They’re hunters.

And maybe the most haunting line of all: “He says to himself, ‘God will never notice; He covers His face and never sees.’” That’s the heart of wickedness—not just arrogance, but the presumption that God doesn’t care, doesn’t act, doesn’t see.

As I read these verses, the emotional punch isn’t just outrage—it’s resonance. Because I’ve felt like David. I’ve looked at evil and wondered, “Where is God in this?” This psalm validates that ache. It doesn’t rush to solve it. It sits in the weight of injustice.

Psalm 10:1–11 is a lament for anyone who has ever stared at the success of the wicked and felt the silence of heaven. It’s an honest prayer, raw enough to admit that sometimes it feels like God is hidden.