**The Cry of the Oppressed and the Justice of the Lord**
In the shadowed corners of a bustling city, where the proud and wicked walked with heads held high, the cries of the afflicted rose like a faint whisper, swallowed by the noise of the world. The psalmist’s pen trembled as he poured out his heart to the Lord, his words etching the anguish of the oppressed and the arrogance of the wicked.
*”Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?”* (Psalm 10:1).
The wicked prowled like a lion in the tall grass, their eyes gleaming with greed. They lurked in the marketplace, where the poor scraped together meager coins to buy bread, only to be swindled by merchants who rigged their scales. The powerful boasted in their wealth, their mouths full of curses, lies, and threats. They sneered at the weak, believing God had forgotten them, that He would never call them to account.
In the narrow alleyways, a widow knelt beside the lifeless body of her son, struck down by a ruthless moneylender’s thugs when she could not repay a debt swollen by false interest. Her tears fell upon the dusty ground, her sobs unheard by those who passed by, too busy or too fearful to stop. The wicked had trapped her in their schemes, confident that no one would defend her.
*”In his arrogance the wicked man hunts down the weak, who are caught in the schemes he devises”* (Psalm 10:2).
Yet the psalmist’s lament was not without hope. Though the wicked seemed to prosper, though they mocked God and said, *”He won’t call me to account,”* the Lord had not turned away. He saw every act of cruelty, every hidden sin. The tears of the oppressed were collected in His bottle; their groans reached His ears.
And then—like the first light of dawn breaking through a storm—the promise of justice came.
*”But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand. The victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless”* (Psalm 10:14).
One evening, as the wicked feasted in their halls, laughing over their ill-gotten gain, a great wind howled through the city. The foundations of their houses trembled. The Lord, who reigns forever, had heard. The schemes of the wicked unraveled—their lies exposed, their wealth scattered like chaff in the wind. The moneylender who had crushed the widow was brought low, his name cursed by those he had wronged. The merchants who cheated the poor were stripped of their ill-gotten treasures, their pride turned to shame.
The psalmist lifted his voice once more, but this time in triumph.
*”The Lord is King for ever and ever; the nations will perish from his land. You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed”* (Psalm 10:16-18).
And so, in the city where darkness had once seemed to reign, the light of justice broke forth. The oppressed found refuge in the Lord, for He had not forgotten them. The wicked would fade like smoke in the wind, but the righteous—those who trusted in the Lord—would dwell in His presence forever.
For the Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And those who know His name will put their trust in Him, for He will never forsake them.
