One Thing I Ask: Psalm 27

The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?

Three titles. Light—illuminating darkness, exposing danger, showing the path. Salvation—rescue, deliverance, help that saves. Stronghold—fortress, refuge, defensive position.

With these three, what is left to fear? Whom shall I fear? The question expects no answer.

When the wicked advance against me to devour me, it is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall.

The wicked advance. They come to devour—predator language. But they stumble. They fall. Not David, but his attackers. The tables turn.

Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.

Army. Siege. War. The threats escalate. But the confidence holds. Not foolish optimism—David knew war. This is faith-forged confidence.

One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.

One thing. In a world of many desires, David has distilled to one. To dwell. To gaze. To seek. Not just to visit God's house but to live there. Not just to see God but to behold his beauty.

For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.

The dwelling that David seeks becomes the dwelling that protects him. Shelter. Sacred tent. Rock. Multiple images of security layered together.

Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me; at his sacred tent I will sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord.

Exaltation follows protection. The surrounded one becomes the exalted one. Sacrifice. Joy. Singing. Music. The temple becomes celebration.

Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me.

The psalm shifts to plea. Hear. Be merciful. Answer. The confident warrior also knows how to beg.

My heart says of you, Seek his face! Your face, Lord, I will seek.

Heart speaking. The inner voice urging: seek his face. And the response: I will. The one thing David asked—to gaze on God's beauty—is the one thing he pursues.

Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; you have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, God my Savior.

The plea intensifies. Don't hide. Don't turn away. Don't reject. Don't forsake. Past help grounds present request: you have been my helper.

Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.

The ultimate human abandonment—parents forsaking children. Even then. The Lord receives the forsaken.

Teach me your way, Lord; lead me in a straight path because of my oppressors.

Teaching requested. Straight path needed. The enemies wait to exploit any deviation.

Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes, for false witnesses rise up against me, spouting malice.

False witnesses. Lies. Malice. Legal persecution added to physical threat.

I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Confidence renewed. Not just heaven someday—the land of the living. Here. Now. Goodness will be visible.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

The closing command, repeated for emphasis. Wait. Be strong. Take heart. Wait. The psalm began with confidence and ends with patience. Sometimes faith looks like waiting.