When people are attacked by an enemy, they defend themselves. But when betrayed by someone they trusted, their hearts crumble. We naturally keep an enemy at a distance from the beginning, but to a friend, we open the door of our hearts.
The psalmist in Psalm 55 stands in that very place of brokenness. He is fearful and trembling (vv. 4–5). He expresses a longing for wings like a dove so he could fly away and be at rest (v. 6). Yet, the one who hurt him the most was not an enemy.
”For it is not an enemy who taunts me… but it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend.” (vv. 12–13)
The psalmist first notes: If it had been an enemy, “I could bear it”; if it had been an adversary, “I could hide” (v. 12).
Instead, he laments, “It is you,” going on to call him “my companion, my friend, my familiar friend” (v. 13). What makes it even more painful is the memory of entering the house of God together:
”We used to take sweet counsel together; within God’s house we walked in the throng.” (v. 14)
They talked together, shared laughter, and worshiped together. That is why the wound runs so deep.
Sometimes the deepest wounds are inflicted not by hatred, but by broken trust. Betrayal cannot occur where love was never present. The pain of betrayal is proof of how deeply trust was once given.
The psalmist is honest: “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.” (v. 6)
His initial impulse is to escape. Faith does not mean pretending we are not hurting, nor does it require acting as though nothing happened after being wounded. When the heart grows weary, our desire often shifts from solving the problem to disappearing from it entirely.
Yet the psalmist brings even these feelings before God. In doing so, his lament transforms into prayer:
”Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice.” (Psalm 55:17)
Evening, morning, and noon—wounds can resurface countless times throughout the day. But each time, the psalmist turns to God.
Though he initially wished to fly away, he comes to declare:
”Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.” (Psalm 55:22)
To “cast” means to throw. It is an invitation not to harbor the weight of injury and anger in our hearts, but to hurl it onto the Lord.
”And he will sustain you.” Before addressing the situation itself, God sustains the one who has been hurt.
The psalmist’s cry over betrayal by a close friend calls to mind the night Jesus was betrayed by Judas. Jesus was betrayed with a kiss by a disciple with whom He had shared meals and traveled. Yet facing that kiss, Jesus called him, “Friend” (Matthew 26:50). Remarkably, the love of the betrayed Savior did not turn into hatred. The Cross represents a love that—though deeply wounded—refused to give up on loving.
Closing Reflection
Like the psalmist, we may have someone in our lives whom we want to ask, “How could you do this to me?” We do not need to force that question away. However, we also do not need to surrender the rest of our lives to the wounds left by others.
God continues to say to us today: “Cast that burden onto Me.”
Faith is not the denial of pain; it is handing final ownership of our wounds over to God. It is stepping aside to let God occupy the seat of judgment, while we stand in the place of healing. In the space where human friendship was broken, God’s friendship now comes to abide.
Prayer
Loving God,
Grant that we may not close our hearts off because of wounds caused by those close to us.
Even on days when we long for wings to fly away and hide, help us bring our laments and cries to You.
As we look to Jesus, who called His betrayer “Friend” even in the face of betrayal, help us live in the confidence that Grace runs deeper than injury, and Love endures longer than betrayal.
In Jesus’ name we pray,
Amen.
