But the wicked are like the troubled sea,
When it cannot rest,
Whose waters cast up mire and dirt.
“There is no peace,”
Says my God, “for the wicked.” (
We have seen the restless sea. Swept by storms, the tide surges, the waves build to a crescendo and crash upon the shore. Flotsam rides the tides and jetsam litters the beach. As far as the eye can observe, the ocean is a boiling cauldron, whipped by the winds. Such is the description of the wicked man’s soul. His thoughts are cluttered with debris and his heart churns like the waves. Peace eludes him—tossing and turning on his bed, rising to pace the floor—to and fro, ebb and flow—to find some meaning in life. He reaches out to seize it as it drifts by, only to have it swept away by the next wave. This inner turmoil characterizes the sinner. It is the way of the wicked. A shot of whiskey, a hit of weed, a sexual tryst, a stock market trade—something, anything to numb the pain and mask the disillusionment—with such efforts only adding to the mire and dirt within.
It isn’t that the righteous are immune from struggle (
Isa.57:1-2). They too know sickness and sorrow. Death will come to all. The difference—that the wicked ignore—is that
when the righteous dies, he is at rest.
His ship sails through the storm tossed waters of this world, but he has
an anchor of hope, and ultimately reaches the haven of heaven. The godly close their eyes in the darkness of
death, and then open them in the light of glory! They exhale one last feeble breath and with
the next inhale celestial air! The heart
slows and then stops, only to begin racing with joy again as the beauties of
eternity are unveiled! The wicked are
insensitive to all that—consumed with their own problems. Little do they know that the sorrows of this
life are but a prelude of the weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth to come.
The way of the wicked is the way of worshipping gods of their own design (
Isa.57:3-9). It is
sorcery and harlotry—an orgy of futility (v.10-14). Only weariness is found in the pursuit of
worldliness. There is no hope available
in false gods—idols who cannot respond for they have no life. Their only, “power,” is to make the
There is a way to find peace—and that is to trust in God (v.13), to remove the impediment of iniquity (v.14), in contrition and condescension to seek the Lord (v.15). The repentant soul can experience revival. God knows we are sinners and has made provision for forgiveness (v.16). The pain from our problems is sent by a loving God as goads designed to prod the stubborn ox and move him where his master wills (v.17-18). It is in the pigpen that the prodigal may come to his senses and return to the Father.
We stand at the helm. We may chart a course for the peace of mind that comes from peace with God (v.19). The other way is to sail into the perfect storm and sink to our doom (v.20-21). No peace now—and no peace for eternity—this is the way of the wicked.