You should be ashamed of yourself, he thought. King David knew that nasty shame feeling. He did. He struggled with shame, like you, like me. Shame sought to unravel him, to break him apart. But, but by the grace of God, shame did not have the final word. In God's grace, shame did not destroy him. Why? Because David found redemption, he found love, he found acceptance in the Lord's shame-atoning righteousness. It was there, inside the heart of God, that David found his home. It was there he found the connection that shame had tried to steal from him. And so, David cried out our text, Psalm 31 verse 1. In you, O Lord, do I take refuge. Let me never be put to shame. In your righteousness, deliver me. That's the cry of a soul redeemed. That's the cry of a heart made whole by the Lord. And today, Redemption Fellowship, we will take up that same cry. Today we will stand with David and pray that same prayer of refuge. We will learn to pray it in the face of shame. And we will pray it with the same strength, the same grit, the same glory, the same passion for God's truth. We will pray it knowing that the Lord is our refuge, just as he was for David. That we too are spiritual refugees, escaping sin's carnage to the Lord. So today, we will go on a journey together. We will face down shame. We will wrestle with our idols of shame relief. And we will find the true refuge our God has provided. We will ask these three key questions. First, what is shame? Second, how do we try to deal with shame the wrong way? And third, what has the Lord provided as a refuge from our shame? We will ask these questions because we know that in Christ, shame is not the end of the story. Shame does not define us because in the Lord Jesus, we find deliverance. And I believe deep down in my soul that if we stand together in this truth, if we call upon God's refuge, his refuge giving grace, like David did, then shame will have no hold on us. Now let's pray and ask the Lord to do this. Lord, shame, would try to tear us apart. But as that old hymn says, out of our shameful failure and loss, Jesus, we come. Jesus, we come. Into the glorious gain of your cross, Jesus, we come to you. out of earth's sorrow and into your balm, out of life's storms and into your calm, out of distress, into jubilant psalm. Jesus, Jesus, we come to you because you are our refuge. Lord, protect the body from any error that can be in this message, any problems with my communication, Transcend all that, Lord, and do your will through your word today, in your name, amen. So first, what is shame? You know shame well, don't you? You felt it, haven't you? You feel it as a parent. You feel it as a grandparent. You feel it as a spouse. You feel it as a child. You feel it as a pastor, as a deacon, as a ministry leader. You feel it as a volunteer, a new member, even a visitor in this very church. You feel it as an employee and you feel it as a boss. And yes, my friends, you feel it every time that you fail God. You feel it every time you fail your brother or your sister. You feel it every time you fail your own conscience. I felt it too as I prepared this sermon. The fear of shame hovered over me. Why? Because shame is failure-focused. Shame is fueled by failure. It's the deep and gnawing fear of failure, moral failure, spiritual failure, before the eyes of God and before the eyes of others. Shame says to you, you're not good enough. You're not worthy of love. You're not worthy of acceptance. Shame whispers in your ear, It's the very same shame that caused Adam and Eve to cover their nakedness, to hide from God after they sinned. It's the same shame that tells us to cover up today, to run, to hide, because with Adam and Eve and with us, shame is what we feel when the image of God is defiled within us. It's one of the things that keeps us from glorifying God with our bodies, with our lives, because shame causes us to hide in the shadow of sin, not to shine in the light of the gospel and of grace. Shame doesn't just tell you what you've done wrong. Shame says you are wrong. Shame doesn't just say you've done something embarrassing. Shame says you are an embarrassment. It takes the moral defilement of sin and stitches it to your very soul. It binds it to your identity. and slowly, quietly kills your connection with God. It severs your connection to one another. Shame says, I haven't just failed. I am failure. I'm failure itself. I'm failure incarnate. Shame says, I'm worthless. I'm unclean. I stink. Get away from me. Shame says, nobody wants me here. Better off dead. They're better off without me. I'm out of here. Yes, shame says these things. And apart from the cross and the power of the Holy Spirit, shame makes us believe them. We've all felt that weight, haven't we? I know we have. Some of us are feeling it right now, right here in this place. Because shame is that feeling, that awful, icky, creeping feeling of self-disgust. It makes you want to run from God, run from the church, run from the people who love you. It's the lie that tells you to hide in the darkness when God is calling you into the light. King David struggled here too, my friends. Yes, King David knew the sting of shame. He felt shame's boot sole pressing down on his face. His own heart condemned him, condemned him as less than human. He was all too aware of his deep moral failures, so he felt shame. Listen to his cry in verses nine and 10 of Psalm 31. Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress. My eye is wasted from grief, my soul and my body also, for my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing. My strength fails because of my iniquity. My bones waste away. Yes, David could have felt shame because of his iniquity. His own heart twisted and bent the law of God to serve his own selfish ends. That's what iniquity is. And because of that, David's heart seemed to condemn him. His own guilt and failure, it brought him to tears, kept him awake at night, stressed, restless, weeping. But O David found more reasons to feel shame. His persecutors, his enemies, they treated him as less than human too. They slandered his name. They plotted his downfall. They sought to take his very life. And what's worse, his so-called friends, the ones who should have stood by him, They believed the lies. They saw him as less than human too, avoiding him, fleeing from him in the streets. Sometimes it's how people view us or how they think of us that's enough to stir shame, isn't it? Yes, David knew this shame too, this deep soul-crushing shame, and listen to what he said in verses 11 through 13. Because of all my adversaries, I've become a reproach, especially to my neighbors, and an object of dread to my acquaintances. Those who see me in the street flee from me. I have been forgotten like one who is dead. I have become like a broken vessel, for I hear the whispering of many, terror on every side, as they scheme together against me, as they plot to take my life. Do you hear it? His enemies treated him as less than human, slandering his name and seeking his life. And worst of all, his friends believed the lies. They abandoned him, excluded him, and left him to suffer alone. David could have been a man consumed by shame. I mean, after all, he knew the pain of isolation, the weight of rejection, and the sting of moral defilement. I hope it's clear from the text. David struggled with shame. But here's the question, what was David gonna do about it? What do we do about it? David, like you and me, he made a decision. David, like you and me, he chose his refuge. But unlike so many of us, unlike me, David chose to take his refuge in the Lord, the Lord of his Bible and of God's people. David didn't run away from grace. David didn't hide from God. David didn't turn his back on the One who could deliver him from shame. But let's be honest today, taking refuge in the Lord, that's not always our first instinct, is it? In the grip of sin, in the grip of shame, we don't always run to God. No, we run from Him. We hide from His grace. We hide from His people. We hide from the very place that we're meant to find healing. We deal with shame by hiding, just like Adam and Eve in the garden, covering ourselves, running from God's presence, But let me tell you, Redemption Fellowship, God is at work right now. In Psalm 31, God is calling us out of hiding. He's bringing us to the very place He brought David, to the place where we can say, in you, O Lord, do I take refuge. Let me never be put to shame. In your righteousness, deliver me. Because now that we've explored what shame is, our first question, let's move to the second question. How do we sometimes respond to and deal with shame wrongly? How do we deal with shame wrongly? The reality is this. Your life asks you the question, what are you gonna do about shame? And it asks you 1,000 times a day. And let me tell you, you answer it 1,000 times a day. Whether you know it or not, you are constantly assessing the level of shame in your life and constantly you're responding to it. But here's the question I ask you today. Are you aware of how you respond to shame? Are you aware of the patterns that rise up in your heart? Are you aware of how you turn from shame and where you run for relief? David was. David knew the temptation to run to the false gods of shame relief, just like you and me. He said in Psalm 31 verse 6, I hate those who pay regard to worthless idols, but I trust in the Lord. Yes, David knew the temptation to seek refuge in worthless idols. David knew the pull, the pull to worship false gods that promise relief from shame. And David saw that those who ran to these false gods, who built their lives on these worthless fortresses, and he hated it. He hated that pull to bow to something that could never truly deliver him. But David made a choice. David said, I trust in the Lord. David knew where true refuge was found. Do we? Do we recognize the false gods of shame relief in our lives? Can we see them clearly? How do you identify the false gods of shame relief? One way is not to look at what you do, but to ask why you do it. What job does an activity, whether good or bad or in between, say like binge eating or binge watching, what job does that do in your heart? What hole is it trying to fill? Let me tell you a story. The late actor Matthew Perry, who you may know as Chandler from the iconic sitcom Friends, he struggled with shame too. But he didn't know the grace of God as a refuge from it. Oh no, as he shared in his autobiography, Perry's parents neglected him throughout much of his young life. And in his later years, he felt the sting of shame, the deep sense that he wasn't good enough to be loved, that something in him was broken, that something needed to be fixed. We can all resonate with that. And despite his success, despite the fame, despite the riches, Matthew Perry felt a deep, nagging loneliness that could not be quenched. He felt shame. And how did he respond to it? How did he deal with that shame? He dealt with it wrongly. After early exposure as a young boy, Matthew Perry took refuge from shame in drugs and alcohol. He thought he could drown that shame, but it never worked. It never brought the relief he sought. It was a false god, a worthless idol, as David put it, promising freedom, but delivering only chains. At 49, I was still afraid to be alone, he wrote. Left alone, my crazy brain, crazy only in this area, by the way, would find some excuse to do the unthinkable, drinking drugs. In the face of decades of my life having been ruined by doing this, I'm terrified of doing it again. I have no fear of talking in front of 20,000 people, but put me alone on my couch in front of a TV for the night, and I get scared. And that fear is of my own mind, fear of my own thoughts, fear that my mind will urge me to do drugs, as it has so many times before. My mind is out to kill me. I know it. I'm constantly filled with a lurking loneliness, a yearning, clinging to the notion that someone outside of me, something outside of me, will fix me. But I had had all that the outside had to offer. Julia Roberts is my girlfriend. It doesn't matter. You have to drink. I just bought my dream house. It looks across the whole city. Can't enjoy that without a drug dealer. I'm making a million dollars a week. I win, right? Would you like to drink? Why, yes, I would. Thank you very much. I'd had it all, but it was all a trick. Nothing was going to fix this. It would be years before I even grasped the notion of a solution. Please don't misunderstand me. All those things, Julia and the dream house and the $1 million a week, were wonderful. I will be eternally grateful for all of them. I am one of the luckiest men on the planet, and boy did I have fun. They just weren't the answer. Matthew Perry is not alone. We do stuff like that too. We build our lives on false gods that promise to take away our shame. We seek refuge in worthless idols sometimes that can never save us. We must learn from David in Psalm 31. We must turn to the one who alone can be our refuge. We must say with David, I trust in the Lord. Because Perry's refuges weren't the answer. Oh no. Matthew Perry ran head first into the same reality we all face, the reality that Psalm 31 points us to. The reality is this, we all take refuge from shame somewhere. We all run from shame, and the question is, where do we run? Perry ran, he ran to what he knew, alcohol, sex, relationships, drugs, dollars, houses, fame, But he found no refuge there. He had it all. Yes, he had it all. But in the end, he looked back and he even said, it was all a trick. Nothing was going to fix this. Sadly, tragically, Perry has since died of a drug overdose. all those false fortresses Perry built to hide from shame, all those replacement refuges, they were like a house of cards. And when shame came crashing in, those fortresses couldn't stand the weight. They couldn't protect him from the storm. And we're no different. We too build our lives sometimes on these refuge replacements for God. We too run to false gods that promise relief but deliver none. Now maybe you're sitting there thinking, well, I don't have an addiction problem. Maybe you're thinking, I don't struggle with addiction to drugs and alcohol. Well, I'm not much better than Perry sometimes. I'm not talking about addiction to drugs and alcohol, but about subtle ways that we all look for refuge in something other than God. It doesn't have to be getting high or drunk to be idolatry. It can be any chase after pleasure, even in food. Let me tell you a story from my own life. I can't tell you how many nights I've found myself standing there in front of the fridge. Yes, standing there at 9 p.m., the fridge door open, the cool air spilling out, scanning those shelves for that perfect snack to turn my life around. Sort of hungry, sort of not, but looking for something, looking for that snack to take me from darkness to light. You've been there too, haven't you? If I had the presence of mind in that moment, if I had sanctified self-awareness, I'd realize something. I'd realize I wasn't standing at the fridge because I was hungry. I was standing there because I was ashamed. I was looking for something that chips and salsa can't provide, shame relief. I was looking for that snack to be my savior from shame, as if the fridge or what it holds could be a fortress, protecting me from all my feelings of inadequacy, failure as a man, failure as a husband, Failure as a father. I've stood there in the iniquity of idolatry, using food, food, as my deliverer from shame. I've stood there numb to the deeper spiritual realities swirling in my heart, standing in front of that glowing refrigerator light, not realizing that I was running. Yes, running for my life. Running because in that moment, my only comfort in life and death was a snack and not my savior. It's why sometimes Pringles become my biggest barrier to prayer. Because true prayer hides from shame in God. True prayer takes refuge from shame in the God who is our deliverer. True prayer runs to the atoning sacrifice of Christ. But binge eating? Binge eating runs to the guacamole instead of God. To the chicken and gravy instead of the empty grave. Don't get me wrong. The point is not don't eat after nine, never drink alcohol, no, no, no, no. This is not some legalism, some shallow checklist religion, some behavior band-aid on the gaping wound of immorality. No, the warning of Psalm 31 for you and me is deeper than that. The question for us is not what we eat or drink or when we do it. The question is why. Why are we eating? drinking, watching, running to the things of this world? Why are we using food or drink, screen time or hobbies or whatever else that we are using as a shame refuge? How have the things of this world become a refuge replacement, a stand-in, a substitute for the Lord of Psalm 31? That is the question. How do these fleeting pleasures relate to the refuge that David seeks? How have we traded the eternal comfort of God in Christ for the temporary distractions of man? God's been working on me. He's been working on me in this area with food. He's been teaching me. He's been growing my awareness of my own false fortresses against shame. It's not that I don't go to the fridge after 9 p.m. or even later, but something is different. Something is happening in my heart. Because I want to let you know that as I stand there, bathed in the light of that refrigerator, the Holy Spirit convicts me. It's almost as if He whispers to my heart, why are you eating right now? What are you feeling? And sometimes, yes, sometimes the answer is legitimate hunger, but sometimes, I think you know what I mean, sometimes it's the sadness and hurt of shame, which is why I'm there. Sometimes I realize that I'm standing at the fridge because I'm ashamed of myself, because I need to be praying Psalm 31 instead of searching for more of that yummy pork stew. I need to be saying, In you, O Lord, do I take refuge. Let me never be put to shame. In your righteousness, deliver me. But I've stood there before, my friends. I've stood there going to food for shame and then felt ashamed for going to food for shame. But in every case, whether before or after running to false refuges, grace has broken my fall. It's caught me. It's protected me. It's delivered me because more and more I'm aware of the Holy Spirit, that He's in my life, that He's coming and reminding me about the gospel in these moments. He reminds me that in Christ I'm forgiven, that in Christ I'm accepted, that in Christ I'm washed, I'm clean, I'm a new creation in Christ. I don't need a casserole at all hours to save me. I'm already saved. The Holy Spirit reminds me of all these glorious truths, truths that David Gerringer taught us just a few weeks ago from 1 Corinthians 6. And that's why I can stand here today and I can tell you that the Lord is faithful. He is our refuge. He's at work right now in this church. He's at work in you and me. And he's leading us to pray with King David, leading us to cry out to God that we might glorify him with our bodies as Jason exhorted us last week. and day by day, whether in the small moments or the big, He is showing us that He alone is our hope. He alone is our refuge from the shame, from the shame that disconnects us from Him and from one another. So we've answered what is shame, and we've answered how we often seek refuge in wrong places. Here's the third and final question of today's message. What has the Lord provided as a refuge from shame? At the bottom of it all, the answer is Himself. Him. Connection, communion, fellowship, reconciliation with Him. It's through all Christ accomplished for us, and all the Holy Spirit applies to us of Christ's finished work, but in the end, it's all, it's all in part to provide God Himself as the refuge from shame. Look closer at our text. In you, O Lord, do I take refuge. Let me never be put to shame in your righteousness. Deliver me." David here stands at a crisis point. Shame, stemming both from his sin and the sin of others against him, has created a powerful distance between himself, the Lord, and Israel, God's people. And yet, rather than succumbing to despair, David finds himself with a profound, almost paradoxical confidence in God's provision. He clings to the Lord as his refuge, knowing that only God can deliver him from shame. Look at the first line, in you, O Lord, do I take refuge. David seeks shelter, but it's no ordinary refuge. It's not an escape in rituals or doctrines merely. It's in God himself. The solution to shame isn't found in abstract ideas, or mere moral effort. It's personal, it's embodied, it's in the Lord. Psalm 31.1 isn't a shallow plea, it's a deep cry for divine intervention. There's a mystery here, something ancient and unsearchable, hidden within this prayer, a mystery that points David beyond himself to something greater. Then David continues, let me never be put to shame. This is the cry of a man who knows the agony of shame, as we've seen, and how it fractures relationships, corrupts worship, and distances the sinner from both God and people. He's on the verge of despair, but not swallowed by it. His faith in God's provision keeps him from falling over the edge. He hovers there, aware of his own sinfulness, but sustained by the hope of deliverance that runs through the scriptures that he knows so well. David knew the stories of Adam and Eve, of Abraham, of the Exodus, of Sinai's law and the tabernacle's atonement ceremonies. These are not just separate, disjointed historical events thrown together on a page. No. They are tied together by a deep truth, an underground aquifer. Sin brings guilt and shame, but the Lord has made provision. So we can lose shame, but not lose God in the process. Shame is the bitter fruit of sin, which alienates humanity from God and fractures fellowship. And yet, God provides a means of dealing with this shame, even though we don't deserve it. In the sacrificial system, David saw the shadows of a deeper reality that we can know in Christ. A grace that not only atoned for guilt by payment, but also atoned for shame through purification, carrying or washing it away, what's called expiation. This is why David could pray, in your righteousness, deliver me. This righteousness isn't just moral purity, it's God's Bible-unifying, overarching covenant faithfulness, His eternal commitment to immovable, steadfast love for His chosen people from Genesis to Revelation. In Psalm 31.1, David knows that only in this righteousness can he be delivered from shame. And this mystery, this righteousness, is a thread that ties the old covenant to the new. It points forward to Christ. When David pleads for deliverance in Psalm 31.1, he is looking for something only God can provide. He knows the weight of sin, but he also knows that God's righteousness is the key to his redemption. And this righteousness, though veiled in David's time, is fully revealed in Christ to you and me. It's the same righteousness that led Jesus to the cross, where he cried out on the cross, quoting this very Psalm, Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." That's Psalm 31 5. In Christ, we see the ultimate fulfillment of what David longed for. Jesus, the perfect lamb, bore our guilt. Jesus, the perfect sacrificial goat, carried away our shame. In Him, God's righteousness was providing an atoning sacrifice. It's displayed for all to see. It's this righteousness that delivers David from despair. And it's the same righteousness that delivers us today. See, the sacrificial system that David knew, the lambs and goats, the day of atonement, was but a shadow of the final sacrifice to come. These pictures, these animal sacrifices, they didn't provide redemption, they pictured it. In Leviticus, among other animals, two goats were offered on the Day of Atonement. One died for sin's guilt and shame to be paid for and purged. The other was sent running outside the city to remove guilt and shame, sent away into the wilderness, never to return. This escaping shame and blame, this escaping shame, blame, carrying goat is what's called the scapegoat. It was like a trash truck symbolizing that God was carrying Israel's moral garbage out of town. In Christ, both goats are fulfilled. Christ is the lamb who takes away sin and he is the two scapegoats who cleanse us and carry away our shame from us. so we can be with our God forever. The point is to have God as our refuge. This is why David can pray with such joyful confidence in Psalm 31. He knows that he still fills the daily presence of shame in his life. It has already been dealt with though. The Day of Atonement has already shown him the provision that God has for his sin and his shame. He stands on the edge of despair but does not fall because He remembers, He knows, He's joyfully confident in the movable fact that the atoning sacrifice has already been made. On Calvary's atonement hill at the cross, Christ became the fulfillment, the culmination point for all David knew was somehow true in Psalm 31. The day Jesus died is the final day of atonement. So let joyful confidence arise in us. Because Psalm 31.1 may seem merely simple at first glance, But it's more than that. It's simultaneously profound. It's simply profound and profoundly simple, as one of my Bible teachers always said of Scripture. Psalm 31.1 weaves together the depths of human shame and the heights of divine grace. It points us forward to the mystery of Christ, who delivers us from both guilt and shame through His righteous sacrifice. When David says, in you, O Lord, do I take refuge, let me never be put to shame, he's pointing to the unwavering strength of the Lord in the face of shame's overpowering influence. David knew the force of shame all too well, but he trusted in the Lord's ability to provide refuge from it. He wasn't just any poet. He was a warrior poet theologian. He was good with a sword and sling, and with a pen. His life was marked by battles, from slaying Goliath to fighting the Philistines. His worship songs, like Psalm 31, reflect this military imagery, often using it to exalt the Lord's character. For David, poetry wasn't just for beauty. It had a purpose, to lead Israel back to the Lord as their refuge. So his poems were military and missionary poetry, highlighting the righteousness, faithfulness, and love of the Lord. So when the imagery of refuge applied to Yahweh in Psalm 31, David taps in to the entire story of God's people. Yahweh's faithfulness and love toward Adam Noah, Abraham, and Moses. His realist shame is the Lord Yahweh, His covenantal righteousness, rooted in His faithfulness to His people, is even more real. David's cry for refuge is a reflection of God's history of saving His people, culminating in the covenant faithfulness that sustains them even in the face of sin and shame. David's language goes beyond simply fleeing to the Lord. He speaks of running into the Lord for refuge. In You, O Lord, do I take refuge. It's a poetic image of total reliance on God for protection and strength and a radical rejoicing in it. David wasn't just looking for a place to hide. He was seeking to crawl into the Lord's protection and enjoy the security of his grace from the inside. He knew this firsthand as he once fled from King Saul and hid in the caves surrounded by rock that sheltered him in his vulnerability. but the Lord had been a rock and a fortress that no cave could replicate or substitute. Consider the example of Norad, the military fortress built inside of Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs during the Cold War. Designed to withstand a nuclear blast, Norad isn't just built from the mountain. It is the mountain. In the same way, David's refuge in the Lord is not something external. God is his mountain, the immovable force he relies on in Psalm 31. David draws strength from something outside of himself as a spiritual refugee, trusting in the Lord's unshakable power. This concept of refuge shows up in literature as well, like King Theoden and the Lord of the Rings, who led his people to Helm's Deep, a fortress built into towering rocks to withstand overwhelming enemies. David sought refuge in the Lord, his Helm's Deep. Just as Theoden's strength lay not in open battle, but in his fortress, David knew that his strength came not from himself, but from the Lord. David's prayer is clothed in this wartime imagery then, likening the Lord to a fortress, a castle, a rock. David runs deep into the Lord's protection, much like someone fleeing into the granite stronghold of Cheyenne Mountain during a nuclear threat, or the defenders of Helm's Deep fleeing into their fortress during an overwhelming attack. David's goal isn't merely to craft a beautiful metaphor. He's leading us to the same refuge that he found For David, the Lord is not just a theoretical concept. He's a fortress, a refuge of loving arms you and I can trust to protect us from the devastating effects of shame. The same Lord David trusted is our refuge today. Psalm 31 looks forward to Christ, the final refuge from shame through the gospel. Jesus, the word made flesh, reveals Yahweh in his full redemptive power. At the cross, Jesus became our ultimate scapegoat, taking our shame upon himself. As Hebrews said, he endured the cross, despising the shame so that we might find refuge in him. So how should we respond today? Like David, we must take refuge in the Lord every day, every situation. We must abandon the false refuges of the world and trust in Christ. He alone can bear the weight of our souls. His shed blood absorbs the wrath of God as a lamb, and it carries away our shame as the final scapegoat provided by God. Shame hunts us daily, but in Christ, God is our refuge. Shame attacks us daily, but in Christ, God defends us. Shame stalks us daily, but in Christ, God shields us. In Christ, shame cannot scale the walls of God's fortress, for He is a strong tower of love and an immovable mountain of faithfulness that you can always rely on. David knew that for a refuge to protect you, you must enter it. You must see your need, choose the best refuge, and take shelter before time runs out. So Redemption Fellowship, run to Christ with that same urgency, declaring your need for the Lord and trusting that in Him you will never be put to shame. Now is the time to take refuge in Christ. Nothing else will do. Besides, to whom else can you go? Christ has the words of eternal life. So when shame comes, will you run for your life? Will you find it in Christ alone? To close, let me share a story with two examples of taking refuge in the Lord. I've been a physical therapist for 18 years, mostly in hospitals. Through the years, I've met Christians facing great suffering and shame because of illness or injury. There's nothing like health issues to tempt you to struggle with the shame of feeling inadequate and like you're not good enough. But as these Christian patients took refuge in the Lord in the hospital through Jesus Christ, even in the shame of their pain, they encouraged me. Here's the remarkable part. As a PT, I was there to strengthen them. But in a gospel irony, as they took refuge in the Lord, they strengthened me, even from a hospital bed. As I tried to physically therapize them, they spiritually therapized me. They kicked my butt with the call to exercise my faith in the Lord as I kicked their butts with the call to exercise their injured bodies. It was a privilege and a blessing that I still don't understand. Just the other day, I had a hospital patient tell me, getting old is tough. I don't wish it on my worst enemy. He was suffering greatly, I'll tell you that. But then, looking over at his Bible, he confirmed, if it wasn't for the Lord, I don't know what I'd do. He's the only friend you've got. He's there 24-7. If you need anything, you just call him, and he's there. That's what David's doing in Psalm 31. David knows the Lord personally. He knows him by his first name, Yahweh, the Lord. David knows the Lord as a man knows a best friend. He knows the Lord is such a good friend that he's in a class of friend all by himself. He transcends every definition of friend. available on earth, especially when it comes to shame. In this sense, He is, as that patient said, the only friend you've got. And you, O Lord, do I take refuge. Let me never be put to shame. In your righteousness, deliver me. As we read it, we can hear David saying, if it wasn't for the Lord, I don't know what I'd do. He's the only friend you've got. He's there 24-7. If you need anything, especially because of shame, you just call him and he's there. Here's the last example. One morning, years ago, I went to start a session with a patient. His Bible lay open on the table next to his bed. I asked him, what were you reading about today? His answer stuck with me. Josh, he said, when you feel far from God, he didn't move, you did. God stays put. His love for you in Christ doesn't change. He's like a mountain. If you're far from the mountain, it's because you moved, not the mountain. Mountains don't move, and neither does God. So if you feel far from him, run back. He hasn't moved. In this man, I saw an example of exactly what he told me. He wasn't strong because his body was fully whole. It was broken. His strength didn't come from health. He was sick. But in the middle of all that suffering, he had a different source of strength. and of courage. He was strong because his God was. He was strong because God was the mountain of strength that this man was running to, even from his hospital bed with legs that didn't work well. As Psalm 31 opens, we find David running from shame. He's running back to the mountain. So will you run back to the mountain this morning, to the unchanging, to the unmoving, to the ever faithful, to the one who is always love, to the Lord, the impenetrable rock of defense for his chosen people. for all who run from sin and shame, to Him through Jesus Christ. Because shame hunts us, but Christ is your refuge. Shame attacks us, but Christ defends you. Shame prowls for us, but Christ defends you. Shame stalks us, but Christ shields you. The Lord is a strong tower, and shame can't scale the walls of Christ. His love is a rock, and shame smashes against Christ, who is that rock. Because shame has no hold on those who trust in God's grace in Christ. Because Christ, the Lord himself, is your refuge. Let's pray. Lord Jesus, you are our rock, our refuge, our hiding place, our safety. We hide inside of you. We're in a spiritual war. We're spiritual refugees running from powers too great for us, our own sin and the destruction sin causes on the earth. We're not strong enough to defeat these enemies. And we flee, we flee to you, Lord Jesus. You are our safe country. We find asylum in you. In Jesus' name we pray, amen.