Psalm 55: Finding God in the Pain of Betrayal
When Those We Love Hurt Us
Have you ever experienced betrayal by someone close to you? That feeling as if the ground has opened beneath your feet? This is exactly what the psalmist faced when writing Psalm 55. And before you think, "this is just another ancient text from the Bible," let me tell you something: this psalm touches on one of the deepest wounds of the human experience — the betrayal of those we trust.
Psalm 55 is not just poetry; it is the raw cry of someone whose soul is shattered. And surprisingly, God chose to preserve this lament in Scripture to show us that there is space for our deepest pain in His presence.
The Cry That God Expects to Hear
The psalm begins with an urgent plea: "Give ear to my prayer, O God, and hide not yourself from my supplication" (v. 1). Note that the psalmist is not making a polite and formal prayer. He is begging for God's attention.
Think of someone you deeply love in a moment of total crisis — that person wouldn’t send a formal letter, right? They would call, knock on your door, do whatever it takes to be heard. This is exactly what we see here. The psalmist is saying, "God, I need You to listen to me NOW."
In verses 2-5, the anguish intensifies. The writer describes his physical distress: groans, restlessness, a troubled heart. Emotional pain manifested throughout his entire body. This should teach us something crucial: God does not expect us to be stoic or to "keep up appearances" before Him. He invites us to bring our complete humanity — tears, tremors, and all.
Practical Application #1: Radical Honesty in Prayer
When was the last time you were completely honest with God about your pain? Many of us have been taught to pray in a "proper" way, but Psalm 55 gives us permission to vent. God prefers your messy truth over your perfectly organized words.
Here’s a challenge for you: this week, take 10 minutes for a brutally honest conversation with God. No filters. No trying to sound "spiritual." Just you and Him.
The Desire to Escape
In verses 6-8, the psalmist expresses a desire that many of us have felt: "Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest." He wants to escape to the wilderness, far from everything and everyone.
I know a woman named Ana (a fictitious name) who, after discovering her husband’s infidelity — her "best friend" of 20 years — told me she fantasized daily about selling everything and moving to a remote cabin in the mountains. "I just wanted everything to stop," she said, tears in her eyes.
The psalmist felt the same way. And do you know what is liberating about this? God does not rebuke him for that desire. The text simply records the feeling. Sometimes, the path to healing begins with God allowing us to feel what we need to feel.
Have you ever allowed yourself to admit that sometimes you just want to escape from it all?
The Betrayal That Hurts the Most
And then we reach the heart-wrenching core of the psalm — verses 12-14. Here, the psalmist reveals something devastating:
"For it is not an enemy who taunts me; then I could bear it... But it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend. We used to take sweet counsel together; within God's house we walked in the throng" (vv. 12-14).
Read this again slowly. It was not a stranger. It was someone close. Someone who walked beside him, who shared moments of worship, who knew his secrets.
This is the betrayal that cuts the deepest — when it comes from within the circle of trust. It could be a spouse, a decades-long friend, a spiritual leader, a business partner. The pain is amplified because there was history, intimacy, emotional investment.
Practical Application #2: Validating Your Pain
If you are going through something similar, listen closely: your pain is valid. You do not need to "get over it quickly" or "just forgive and forget." The Bible dedicates an entire chapter to validate how much betrayal hurts. God sees, God knows, and God does not minimize your pain.
Allow yourself to grieve. Cry. Write in a journal. Talk to someone you trust. Seek professional help if necessary. Genuine healing does not ignore the wound.
Violence, Conspiracy, and Wickedness in the City
Verses 9-11 and 15 paint a grim picture of violence, oppression, and malice. The psalmist asks God to confuse the wicked, to destroy their tongues (a reference to lies and betrayal).
He describes the city as full of iniquity, oppression, and deceit. It is an image of a toxic environment where evil prevails. And in the midst of it all, there is the bold request: "Let death come upon them; let them go down alive to Sheol!" (v. 15).
Does this language shock us? Perhaps. But reflect on what it reveals: the psalmist is entrusting vengeance to God, not taking it into his own hands. He cries out for divine justice, not personal retaliation.
Practical Application #3: Entrusting Justice to God
When we are deeply hurt, the desire for revenge is natural. But Psalm 55 shows us a better way: to bring our cry for justice to God, not to execute it ourselves.
Romans 12:19 echoes this principle: "Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.'”
This does not mean passivity in the face of evil. It means trusting that God is just and will act at the right time while we focus on our own healing.
The Turn: From Lament to Trust
In verses 16-19, something changes. The tone remains serious, but there is a note of hope: "But I call to God, and the Lord will save me; evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice" (vv. 16-17).
The psalmist decides to do something transformative: maintain a constant routine of seeking God — three times a day. He does not wait to "feel like it." He does not wait for the pain to pass. He chooses, repeatedly, to turn to God.
And then comes the declaration of faith: "He redeems my soul in safety... for many are arrayed against me. God will hear and afflict them" (vv. 18-19).
The Transformative Invitation
Verse 22 is possibly the most well-known of the entire psalm: "Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved."
This is the great turn. After all the lament, the anger, the desire to escape, the psalmist arrives at a fundamental truth: God can carry the weight that is crushing us.
The word translated as "burden" in Hebrew (yəhāḇ) refers to something that has been given, assigned, or placed upon someone. It is that load you did not choose, but that is upon you. The betrayal you did not deserve. The pain you did not seek.
What are you carrying today that needs to be cast upon God?
Practical Application #4: The Daily Act of Surrender
Casting our burdens upon God is not a one-time event. It is a daily practice, sometimes moment by moment. It can be literal: write your burden on a piece of paper and place it in a symbolic location (a box, a personal altar, under a stone). Each time you are tempted to take it back, physically remind yourself that you have given it to God.
Many people find that starting the day with this practice — literally saying out loud, "Lord, today I give You [specific situation]" — radically changes how they navigate the following hours.
The Final Contrast
The psalm ends with a striking contrast in verses 22-23. On one side, there is the promise of sustenance for those who trust in God. On the other, there is the certainty of judgment: "But you, O God, will cast them down into the pit of destruction; men of blood and treachery shall not live out half their days."
The psalmist concludes with a personal declaration of faith: "But I will trust in you" (v. 23b).
After all the pain, all the betrayal, all the lament, the final word is trust. Not because everything has been resolved. Not because the pain has disappeared. But because he chose to place his life in the hands of a God who hears, sustains, and acts justly.
Connections That Strengthen Our Faith
Psalm 55 is not isolated in Scripture. It echoes throughout the Bible:
- David and Absalom: This psalm may well have arisen from the betrayal of Absalom, David's own son, who conspired against him (2 Samuel 15).
- Jesus and Judas: Christ Himself experienced the betrayal of a close friend. In John 13:18, Jesus quotes Psalm 41:9 about the one who ate bread with Him and betrayed Him.
- Peter in 1 Peter 5:7: The apostle echoes Psalm 55:22 when he writes: "Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."
These connections show us that the theme of betrayal, pain, and trust in God runs throughout the entire story of salvation. You are not alone on this journey.
Living with the Wisdom of Psalm 55
So, how do we take this psalm beyond the page and into our lives?
First, recognize that the pain of betrayal is a profound human experience validated by God's own Word. Do not minimize what you are feeling.
Second, create space for honest lament. Your faith journey has room for both tears and praise. God is not shocked by your humanity.
Third, resist the impulse for personal revenge. Entrust justice to God — He is infinitely more capable and just than we are.
Fourth, practice daily the act of casting your burdens upon the Lord. Make this an intentional spiritual ritual.
Fifth, choose trust even when feelings do not align. Trust is not the absence of pain; it is the decision of who you will believe in the midst of pain.
Your Story Is Still Being Written
If you are reading this while going through your own experience of betrayal and pain, I want you to know: Psalm 55 ends with trust, but it does not end with all the answers. The psalmist still had questions. He still felt the pain. But he chose to trust nonetheless.
Your story can also have that ending. Not an ending where everything is perfect, but one where you discover that even in the deepest betrayal, there is a God who hears your cry, sustains your weight, and will never abandon you.
The pit of loneliness that betrayal digs may seem bottomless. But there is Someone who descends there with you and offers a rope of hope called trust.
Will you accept it?
A prayer for you today:
Lord, like the psalmist, I bring before You my pain without filters. You know the weight I carry, the betrayal I have experienced, the trust that has been broken. Today, I choose to cast this burden upon You. Sustain me, for I can no longer sustain myself. And when the temptation to take back the weight comes, remind me that Your hands are stronger than mine. In the midst of all this, I choose to trust in You. Amen.