Psalms 71:8

Be Thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort.

God, our continual resort

David knew what it was to hide himself away in the great caverns and rocks of his native land. He had done so in the cave of Adullam. And such residences are never forgotten. You may live for an age in such a town as this, and forget it all. What is there to remember in this labyrinth of bricks and mortar? But when you get into the clear bracing atmosphere of the hills, amid these crags and glens, and you spend a night in some mountain cave, you will never forget that. And David never did. And in his loftiest songs he speaks of God in language culled from the cave. And what a gracious heart he must have had to be able to speak like this. He desired not merely to dwell with, but in, God. He would have the Lord to be his house, his home, whereunto he might continually resort. The text suggests--

I. The delightful repose that David found in God. Be Thou my strong habitation: that is, be my house and home.

1. What wonderful condescension he had experienced from God. That he should be allowed to think of the great and glorious God as his home. And he did so, for--

2. He had realized in God peculiar love. In a man’s own home he expects to find love. Pity the poor wretch who is disappointed therein. In the world we do not expect it, we reckon on rough treatment; but within our own doors we enter the sanctuary of love. And David had dwelt in God as in the abode of love.

3. And home is the place of special rest. We lay aside our working dress. The advocate takes off his gown, and says, “Lie there, Mr. Barrister, and let the father come to the front.” The tradesman takes off his apron, the warrior his harness, the bearer his yoke, for he is at home. And so we have rest in God.

4. And of joyful freedom. Religious people sometimes start back from the prayers of a true saint, and say, “He is too familiar.” Of course a child is too familiar for the imitation of a stranger; but have you ever blamed a child for clambering on his father’s knee? And yet you would not think of copying him. “Boy, dost thou know what thou art at? Thou art playing with a learned judge, before whom prisoners tremble, and courts are hushed. Even wise counsellors speak to him as “my lord.” But that urchin does not say, “My lord.” Look, he is plucking him by the beard; he is kissing his cheek. What presumption! No! he is the judge’s child; he who is to judge others is “father” to him. So the saints of God say, “Our Father, which art in heaven,” ever reverentially, but yet with sweet familiarity. They are at home with Him.

5. And of intimate knowledge. David knew the Lord even as he knew the eaves in which he had sheltered. David could have served as a guide to the great hollow of Adullam.

6. Of tender care. We may get more skill elsewhere, perhaps, but what can make up for the tenderness of home? One would like to die there when our time comes.

II. David had realized in God powerful security. He felt then, and so does the child of God, perfectly safe.

III. God was to him a place of continual resort. The gate of communion with God is never locked. There is joy in such resort itself, and as an outlook for the unknown future; and it is a joy which answers so many blessed purposes. Let us continually resort unto God as we ever may. Let us come now. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

God the habitation of souls

I. A sense of the soul’s need. The soul needs a “habitation.” It is a homeless wanderer.

1. It wants a home for protection. How exposed is a guilty soul?

2. It wants a home for comfort. Home is the scene of comfort. But the guilty soul is comfortless.

3. It wants a home for settledness. It is a restless wanderer.

II. A faith in God’s sufficiency. God is just the “habitation” which the soul wants, affording security, comfort, and permanent residence.

1. God is an accessible habitation. The doors of infinite love are ever open to welcome all who come. This habitation is ever near to us.

2. God is a secure habitation. Those who are in Him are safe from all dangers and all foes. “God is our refuge and strength.”

3. God is a blessed habitation. In Him is found infinitely more than all we want to perfect us in everlasting bliss.

4. God is an enduring habitation. “The eternal God is our refuge,” etc. Return, O prodigal, to thy Father’s house. (Homilist.)

The best home

(to children):--I am going to talk to you about the best home you could ever think of. God is a home; that’s what our text says.

I. Home is a place of shelter and security. Every boy and girl feels safe at home. Now, there are a great many dangers and troubles in the world that grasp us, and threaten us, and frighten us; but if we only get into this home of which I am speaking, they can’t harm us. God is a sure refuge for His children. Long ago, rich people lived in castles built of strong stone walls, and frequently surrounded by a deep broad ditch, so that robbers and enemies would not be able to enter and despoil them of their property. They used to fight with each other, and when the battle began to turn against them, they would flee into their castles, and there they were safe. New, God is a great castle; He is a “strong habitation.” If you once get inside of it, no enemy can harm you.

II. Home is a place of supply. I know that there are homes where children do not have many nice things, where they have at times to suffer hunger. But such is not the case with this home of which I am speaking. This home has everything to make those who live in it satisfied and happy.

III. Home is a place of love. Mother, father, wife, children, are but faint, faint images of God. He is the fountain of all their affection. There is no place in the universe so safe and so delightful. (B. D. Thomas.)