My Friends Are All in Darkness
Anguish and Abandonment
Psalm 88: A Journey Through Isolation
How long can one person lay in bed, paralyzed, pinned down by the weight of the world, vacuum sealed, trapped, Velcroed to your mattress? Have you ever struggled to pull yourself up from beneath the weight of the covers, only to feel gravity pulling you back, then you know what I mean. It’s not just the invisible weight that burdens you—it’s the crushing isolation. It feels like diving into the deep sea, where each meter brings an intensity of pressure against your body, deeper and deeper, until every movement becomes a battle. That’s what depression can feel like, and perhaps what the author of Psalm 88 felt too.
"You have removed lover and friend far from me; my familiar friends are in darkness." (Psalm 88:18, AMP).
These words cut to the heart of isolation. I remember laying in a room, alone, on a twin mattress on the floor, swallowed by emptiness in the middle of the day. Even though it was bright outside, my soul was in darkness. Psalm 88 doesn’t reach for comfort or offer relief; it’s a whimper from a soul that feels abandoned, meeting us in the pit of despair without promising an escape.
Faith doesn’t always give us answers, and Psalm 88 is a reminder of that. This psalm doesn’t wrap itself up with a hopeful ending or even a sliver of light. Instead, it plunges us deeper into the experience of anguish, where every breath feels like a struggle, and every prayer is filled with desperation. Have you ever felt so low that calling out to anyone, let alone God, feels exhausting? Like each word that tries to escape your dry mouth and parched lips is as difficult as lifting a heavy piece of awkward furniture? This psalm is the voice of a soul that feels pummeled by the relentless waves of suffering, only able to whisper a plea without the strength to question why.
We know the name of the man who wrote this psalm: Heman the Ezrahite. And while I don’t know much else about him, I do know that a man who wrote these words felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. As the scriptures were written, selected, and spoken, over and over again, those reading Heman’s words must have experienced something similar—his place of deep loneliness and isolation. In an attempt to make a recording for this article, I read through Psalm 88 no less than 30 times. Each reading helped me feel less alone, connecting my own dark days to his. There’s a familiarity in his words, a sense that he understands the depths I’ve been to. Psalm 88 is perhaps the darkest of psalms, unflinching in its raw, exposed feeling of being cut off—not just from people, but from God Himself.
Our world rarely gives us permission to feel deep despair. Instead, we’re encouraged to stay positive, move on, or keep our chin up. Some might say, “God’s got this,” as if that’s all we need to hear. But Psalm 88 is different. It doesn’t offer any “bright side” or easy answers. Instead, it lets us sit fully in the darkness, showing us that even our deepest pain can be laid out before God. Heman’s words come from a place so low that every bit of strength he has left goes into this one final breathless cry to God.
Think about those words: You have removed lover and friend far from me. My familiar friends are in darkness. I feel cut off from your hand. I am a castaway. If Heman has felt this way, then you or someone you know probably has too. The words “cast away” and “cut off” carry a weight that many people can relate to but may rarely express. Isolation like this can feel like standing at the edge of a pit, staring into something dark and endless, wondering if there’s anything to hold onto. Sometimes allowing people to sit in that darkness may be important for their journey to connect with God. But we have to remember that those who feel cast away likely don’t have the strength to reach out. They’re not coming to us, so we have to find the strength to go to them.
As we move forward to Psalm 139, we’ll find a different tone. Tomorrow, we’ll see that while Heman felt cut off, Psalm 139 reassures us that God searches us and knows us deeply. It’s the opposite of abandonment. Where Psalm 88 holds space for anguish, Psalm 139 invites us into closeness and comfort. Together, these psalms mirror the journey from isolation to connection with God.
Psalm 88 (AMP Version)
O Lord, the God of my salvation, I have cried out [for help] by day and in the night before You.
Let my prayer come before You and enter into Your presence; Incline Your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near the grave (Sheol, the place of the dead).
I am counted among those who go down to the pit (grave); I am like a man who has no strength [a mere shadow],
[Cast away] among the dead, like the slain who lie in a [nameless] grave, whom You no longer remember, and they are cut off from Your hand.
You have laid me in the lowest pit, in dark places, in the depths.
Your wrath has rested heavily upon me, and You have afflicted me with all Your waves. Selah
You have put my friends far from me; You have made me an object of loathing to them. I am shut up and I cannot go out.
My eye grows dim with sorrow. O Lord, I have called on You every day; I have spread out my hands to You [in prayer].
Will You perform wonders for the dead? Shall the departed spirits arise and praise You? Selah
Will Your lovingkindness be declared in the grave or Your faithfulness in Abaddon (the underworld)?
Will Your wonders be known in the darkness and Your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness [where the dead forget and are forgotten]?
But I have cried out to You, O Lord, for help; and in the morning my prayer will come to You.
O Lord, why do You reject me? Why do You hide Your face from me?
I was afflicted and close to death from my youth on; I suffer Your terrors; I am overcome.
Your fierce wrath has swept over me; Your terrors have destroyed me.
They have surrounded me like floodwaters all day long; they have completely encompassed me.
You have removed lover and friend far from me; My familiar friends are in darkness.