‘The devil was sick, the devil, a monk would be. The devil was, well, a monk, was he.’ This is said of those who make pious resolutions during sickness or danger but forget them once the danger is past and health is regained. There is some truth to this. Good health can carry an unconscious arrogance and sometimes bring a false sense of invincibility. Sickness opens our eyes. We reflect on our lives and become frightened by the selfishness of our motives. Our behavior may not improve after recovery, but at least we may feel grateful for being saved in our prayers. However, the real sickness is of the mind and soul, and if we ask God to heal us, the dawn will break.
Nothing is certain in this life. The Lord alternates between joys and sorrows, using them to strengthen our faith according to our needs. Sometimes, we are caught off guard: trials discourage us as if God no longer exists, and when God shows us favors, we struggle to believe they are real.
Those who know they are surrounded by illness and face the threat of death can pray with this psalm.