Psalm 119:33–40 // Asking God for understanding // Tony Scialabba
I don’t think the writer of this psalm could have imagined the kinds of distractions we live with every day. We move through a world that is constantly trying to capture our attention. Our digital and media-driven world is not only attempting to shape what we see, think, and desire – it’s banking on it. Over time, this forms us.
We live with more information than any generation before us. Our feeds are customized to our preferences. Our devices know what we like, what we linger over, and what will keep us scrolling. In theory, all of this should make us wiser, more thoughtful, more connected. But many of us feel the opposite. We feel scattered. Pulled in a dozen directions. Present everywhere and fully attentive nowhere.
On a fasting day, that reality can feel more exposed. Hunger slows us down and removes some of our usual comforts. In the quiet that follows fasting, we may start to notice just how restless our hearts and minds really are.
Psalm 119:33–40 gives us language for that moment. It is not a prayer spoken from a place of strength, but from a place of surrender. The psalmist is not asking God for more rules or better discipline. He is asking God to shape him.
“Teach me,” he prays. “Give me understanding.” There is humility here—a recognition that growth does not begin with trying harder, but with being taught. The psalmist wants more than information. He longs to live God’s way with his whole heart, not out of pressure, but from the inside out.
As the prayer continues, desire comes into view. “Lead me in the path of your commandments,” he says, “for I delight in it.” This line stands out to me. The psalmist doesn’t assume delight; he names it as something God must cultivate. He knows that sustained obedience must come from a heart that has learned to love, not driven by duty alone.
Then the prayer turns more searching. “Incline my heart to your testimonies,” he asks, “and not to selfish gain.” The psalmist is honest about himself. His heart is not neutral, but tends to drift. It is pulled toward things that promise security or advantage. Rather than hiding that, he brings it directly before God. He asks for reorientation.
Next comes a prayer about attention: “Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things, and give me life in your ways.” What we look at matters. What we return to, again and again, quietly shapes us. Some things drain life without us even noticing. The psalmist isn’t asking to escape the world—he’s asking for eyes that are guided toward what gives life instead of taking it.
This is where fasting intersects with this psalm. When we fast, we often become more aware of what we reach for when we’re uncomfortable. So often we turn to distraction, noise, or control. Psalm 119 doesn’t deny those tendencies, but gives us words that we can bring to God when those tendencies surface.
The prayer continues with honesty about fear. The psalmist asks God to confirm His promise and to turn away the reproach he dreads. He’s not pretending that fear doesn’t exist, but is bringing his real fear into God’s presence. God’s ways, the psalmist reminds us, are good, even when they feel costly or unclear.
The passage ends with longing. “I long for your precepts,” he says. “Give me life.” The psalmist has not arrived to a superior level of spirituality, but rather is voicing his dependence on and hunger for God’s wisdom.
Fasting reminds us that longing itself is not the problem. It’s often the place where God meets us. We are not asked to form or fix ourselves. We are invited to be reoriented, to have our hearts and eyes turned by God. Let Him.
Question to consider
In moments of hunger or restlessness today, what do you instinctively turn to for comfort or relief?
Prompt for prayer
When you notice hunger, restlessness, or discomfort today, pause and bring that moment to God. Name what you feel drawn toward. Ask God to gently incline your heart and redirect your attention toward what gives true life.
