Psalms 86:5

Psalm 86 is a prayer David wrote during a time when he felt surrounded by enemies and in desperate need of rescue. In this verse, rather than arguing for why God should help him based on his own goodness, David appeals entirely to God's character. The Hebrew word behind "abounding" carries the sense of overflowing — not rationed love but love in excess, past the point of what seems reasonable. Crucially, the promise extends to "all who call" — not the righteous, not those who deserve it, but anyone who calls out.

God, I want to believe what David wrote here — that your love truly overflows, that it doesn't run out for people like me. Help me to come to you honestly, without editing myself into someone more presentable first. Thank you that your forgiveness isn't something I have to earn my way back into. Amen.

There's a version of faith that works like a debit account — you can only draw from it based on what you've put in. Behave well, get mercy. Mess up badly enough, and the account runs dry. Most of us absorb this idea somewhere along the way, even if we'd never say it out loud. So after a real failure, we approach God cautiously, almost bracing for a transaction declined. David's words hit that assumption like a cold splash of water. He doesn't say God is *willing* to forgive when pressed. He says God *abounds* in love — the word suggests overflow, even excess. Who do you picture when you hear "all who call to you"? Here's the harder question: does that picture include you? Not in a theoretical, theologically-correct way — but right now, with whatever you're actually carrying. The failure you keep replaying. The habit you can't crack. The prayer you're too embarrassed to even form into words. David's confidence in this verse wasn't built on his own track record, which — if you know his story — was genuinely complicated. It was built entirely on who God is. That character hasn't changed. The call is still open.