Have you ever prayed that God would let you see people through His eyes? Have you ever wanted to feel what He feels? I warn you; this is a dangerous prayer, not because it is wrong to ask for this, but because you have no idea what you’re asking for. For years, I asked God to let me feel His heart for something, anything, that He cares about. In late 2011, He said, “Okay, you asked for it … .”

Some friends of ours, at the time, were starting the process to become foster parents, and they shared about a five-year-old girl who was deemed unadoptable because she was considered a danger to herself and others. At the time, my youngest children were six, and they were completely innocent. What horrors had to happen to a five year old to make her a danger to herself and others? With a tweak in my soul, I started researching children who are “wards of the state” in foster care. The statistics were heartbreaking; here are some more recent statistics:

1. In 2021, there were over 64,000 children waiting to be adopted after their parents’ parental rights were terminated. (usafacts.org)
2. Over a third of foster children experience more than two placements each year, meaning their living arrangements change at least three times a year. (aecf.org)
3. In 2021, more than 19,000 youth left foster care without reuniting with their parents or having another permanent family home. (aecf.org)
4. Once they reach age six, a child’s likelihood of being adopted drops by half, and continues to decline the older they get. (aecf.org)
5. Youth who “age out” of foster care, usually around 18, are at a significantly increased risk of homelessness, young parenthood, low employment rates and other challenges. (childtrends.org)

It was while I was conducting this research that God chose to let me experience His heart, albeit just a little, for the plight of the orphan. Although I know what I felt was only a sliver of what He feels for these beloved creations of His, I was OVERWHELMED. I was overcome with sorrow, in a way to this day I cannot describe sufficiently with words.

This awareness, this experience of His heart, led my wife and I down the path to adoption, which ultimately grew our family of six to eight, with the two newest additions being a teenager and a young adult whom He led us to welcome to our family. The depth of His sorrow I experienced was only matched by the heights of His JOY when these two image-bearers were orphans no more!

Charles Spurgeon suggests Psalm 68 was written by David to be one of the songs sung as he brought the ark to Jerusalem after its hiatus at the house of Obed-Edom in 2 Samuel 6. While the Psalm itself doesn’t tell us when it was written, I can see how Spurgeon could be right. Take a moment to read it right now.

It is a song of victory, of delayed justice finally served, of revelation of the power of God ALMIGHTY. It speaks of a procession into the sanctuary with loud music. It lifts the righteous and the downtrodden. Taken as a whole, it speaks of HOPE and promise FULFILLED. I can see David in my mind dancing and singing with all his might, experiencing the thrill of the Lord’s presence. And there in verses 5-6 we find His ultimate promise to those who, like my daughters, feel like the world is stacked against them. “A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, is God in His holy habitation. God makes a home for the lonely; He leads out the prisoners into prosperity, only the rebellious dwell in a parched land.” You … I see you, and you are not forgotten. You are mine, and I will hold and keep you. I will not leave you in despair.

What is only hinted at in the Psalm, however, are the valleys that must be traveled before reaching the mountain. How many enemies must we face before they are scattered? How long must we ride through the desert? What wrongs must a widow experience before the eternal judge makes it right? Will the lonely be placed in an earthly family, or must they wait for the eternal? How long, oh Lord? When will this be our song? Assuming this Psalm was part of the ark’s arrival in Jerusalem, David would know these valleys well. He attempted to bring the ark back from another guy’s house once before, only to have the effort fail miserably, making him ask, “How will the ark of the Lord ever come to me?” (See earlier in 2 Samuel 6)

While we all have these valleys, Psalm 68 reminds us we are not alone. Verse 19 says, “Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden, the God who is our salvation.” When I face challenges and struggles, sorrow and depression, I am not alone. In Matthew 11, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”

When I read Psalm 68, it gives me hope. When I am in the valley, it reminds me of what’s on the other side. When I’m on the mountain, it reminds me of who was with me in the valley. In all moments of life, it reminds me that my Father in Heaven is not distant and cold, but near. He is present, and He looks forward to rejoicing with me both in my temporary mortal life and even more so in my eternal one. And for that reason, we end this the same way David ends Psalm 68: “Praise be to God!”