Psalms 59: The Inner Battle of Strength and Weakness

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Quick Insights

I feel besieged by inner voices that pretend to be enemies but are actually rehearsals of fear and accusation.
There is a call to wake the higher self, a vigilant awareness that disperses the impressions that threaten peace.
The recurring images and sounds of attack are habits of the imagination returning at evening; met with a steady, sovereign inner stance they lose power.
The practice is not to annihilate parts of the psyche but to assert a ruling assumption of protection, justice, and merciful authority until those hostile patterns dissolve.

What is the Main Point of Psalms 59?

This chapter reads as a map of consciousness that begins in urgent fear and moves toward a sovereign inner witnessing: imagine yourself besieged by hostile thoughts, call on the power of higher awareness that guards and reorders perception, and patiently hold the reality of safety and mercy until the imagination reshapes outward circumstance. The central principle is that the state you inhabit inwardly—alert, steadfast, and confidently defended—creates the felt reality in which hostile impulses lose their force.

What is the Spiritual Meaning of Psalms 59?

The cry for deliverance is an honest admission that imagination has produced a threatening scene. Enemies are not primarily external people but the accumulated negative rehearsals that circle the city of your attention. When the mind rehearses slander, envy, or violence, it stages watchful ambushes that seem real, and the habitual self reacts as if under literal assault. Recognizing those figures as products of imagination begins the alchemy: naming them as imagined frees the observer to summon a different assumption. Awakening the 'LORD' in this psychological drama is the act of calling the higher consciousness into the theater of thought. This is not intellectual denial but a felt repositioning: instead of feeding the attackers with fear, you hold the state of being defended, amused, and sovereign. Laughter at the undermining voices indicates a shift from reactive identification to dignified detachment; ridicule here is the light that dissolves shadows. Expectation transforms the scene—wait upon the presence of strength and it will organize the images that appear to you. The text counsels against the literal killing of the troublesome parts because repression only displaces them and makes them return with more force. Rather than annihilation, the remedy is scattering—breaking their unity by redistributing attention and authority. When judgment and exposure are applied from a calm center, the pride and lying that once gave those inner enemies coherence fall apart. Mercy operates as a corrective lens: it changes how you perceive past slights and current threats so that the imagination can construct a new, sustained outcome of protection and creative power.

Key Symbols Decoded

Dogs circling at evening are recurrent, low-level fears that come back when vigilance wanes; they announce themselves with noise and hunger but have little real bite when not fed by attention. The sword in the lips represents sharp speech and inner denunciation—words that cut and define identity in negative ways; when you refuse to invest them with reality they become empty sound. The shield and laughter symbolize the sovereign posture of higher awareness and joy that reframes experience: a shield does not attack, it preserves; laughter reveals that the feared scenario lacks ultimate substance. The entreaty to let God 'see desire upon mine enemies' points to the practice of imagining the end you desire—not vengeance, but the restoration of order that renders the old patterns impotent. Scattering by power is the inner process of redistributing attention to creative ideas so that the cohesion of the hostile thought-form dissolves. Singing in the morning is the renewal ritual: begin the day by rehearsing the state of strength and mercy and the day's occurrences will align with that inner music.

Practical Application

Begin by identifying one recurring hostile image or voice that returns 'at evening'—notice its cadence and the pictures it creates. In a quiet moment, imagine from the end: see the scene already resolved with you safe, protected, and even compassionate toward those troubled aspects. Feel the relief, the humor, the strength of the shield; do not try to argue with the fearful images, simply change the assumption and live from the new feeling for several minutes until it becomes convincing. Make this an evening and morning practice: at night gently refuse to entertain the circling dogs by shifting to the defended state, and in the morning reinforce it by singing inwardly of your refuge and mercy. When hostile thoughts arise during the day, let the higher witness laugh them off and redirect your imagination to constructive scenes. Over time the habit of conjuring enemies will loosen, their noise will diminish, and the outer events that once matched that inner turbulence will change to reflect the steadier, victorious state you now maintain.

Shelter Under Siege: The Inner Drama of Trust and Deliverance

Read as a drama of consciousness, Psalm 59 is not a chronicle of external soldiers and siege engines but a map of inner conflict: the psalmist is the self beleaguered by unloving, habitual states of mind that pose as enemies. Each line names a psychic condition, the prayer is an act of imaginative re‑direction, and the divine figure is the creative consciousness within — the Imagination that can defend, displace, and finally transmute the hostile states into their own undoing.

The opening cry, 'Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God; defend me from them that rise up against me,' is the recognition that something hostile has taken shape inside. Those 'enemies' are not outside facts but inner attitudes that oppose the self's desired state: fear, resentment, self‑judgment, the image of smallness. Asking God to 'defend' is an act of attention toward the higher faculty of inner creation. It is a deliberate turning of awareness to the power that can alter feeling and therefore alter the patterning of experience.

'Workers of iniquity' and 'bloody men' are shorthand for the habitual imaginal scripts that harm the self. They 'lie in wait for my soul' — they are the subconscious expectations that crouch silently until a cue in experience triggers them. 'The mighty are gathered against me' describes how isolated negative imaginations, if left unexamined, join into a force: a belief system that seems invincible because of accumulation and repetition. The psalmist insists 'not for my transgression, nor for my sin' — this acknowledges a common interior truth: much of the mind's attack is gratuitous, an echo of unsupported fear rather than moral failure. The sufferer knows the assault is disproportionate to any real transgression; it is a conditioned drama, not a just verdict.

'They run and prepare themselves without my fault' — negative states conspire without permission. The remedy begins when the inward director is summoned: 'awake to help me, and behold.' Awakening here is the deliberate imaginative act: to assume the presence of an inner protector, to listen for the creative voice that will counter the hostile chorus. 'Thou therefore, O Lord God of hosts, the God of Israel, awake to visit all the heathen: be not merciful to any wicked transgressors' reads like an instruction to Imagination to show no leniency to the false narratives that keep returning; the plea asks the creative self to treat them decisively, to withhold the compassion that would co‑maintain them. This can sound harsh until one realizes the psychology: continued mercy to harmful states is often mercy to the habit of suffering; firmness is sometimes the kinder course.

The repeated image 'they return at evening: they make a noise like a dog, and go round about the city' is one of the Psalm's most vivid psychological portrayals. Evening is the time when the day’s defenses grow thin — fatigue, worry, and twilight tend to loosen resolve. The 'dogs' are those recurrent, noisy thoughts that patrol the edges of consciousness at night: rumination, worry, recrimination. They 'belch out with their mouth: swords are in their lips' — critical language, internal dialogue sharpened into accusations. 'For who, say they, doth hear?' captures the inner mocking voice that suggests isolation: nobody sees, nobody helps. This is the specific symptom the psalm addresses.

'But thou, O Lord, shalt laugh at them; thou shalt have all the heathen in derision.' Here the creative consciousness is given an active posture of amused superiority. Laughter is not cruelty but recognition of the impotence of the enemy once exposed as imagination — they are absurd when stripped of the aura of inevitability. This laughter is the state to cultivate: the calm, superior mood that holds the hostility as a passing image, not an ontological fact.

'Because of his strength will I wait upon thee: for God is my defence.' Waiting is not passive resignation but confident assumption. One 'waits' in the mood of the wish fulfilled, supported by the 'strength' of imaginative conviction. To 'wait upon' the creative faculty is to remain in its temperament, to refuse to be thrown into agitation. 'The God of my mercy shall prevent me: God shall let me see my desire upon mine enemies.' Mercy here is preemptive creativity: a felt assurance that the inner protector will intervene before the hostile patterns complete themselves. 'Seeing my desire upon mine enemies' means experiencing the fulfillment — the inward scene wherein the enemy states are disarmed and the self stands free.

The instruction 'Slay them not, lest my people forget: scatter them by thy power; and bring them down, O Lord our shield' signals a nuanced psychological method. Total annihilation of parts of the self is both unnecessary and counterproductive; if the 'enemies' are utterly slain, the psyche loses its memory and capacity to learn. Better is scattering them — displacing and diffusing their power so they can no longer form a cohesive attack. 'Bring them down, O Lord our shield' turns the emphasis to shielding: the habit of assuming a protective state of consciousness that repels old scripts.

'For the sin of their mouth and the words of their lips let them even be taken in their pride: and for cursing and lying which they speak.' Words create and words betray. This verse registers the principle that inner speech labors at world‑making; the false self‑statements and curses we say into the quiet grow into forms. If we let them run unchecked, they assume pride — they become self‑justifying systems of thought. The antidote is speech reoriented by imagination: replace the curses with declarations of a new state, not as theory but as felt reality.

'Consume them in wrath, consume them, that they may not be: and let them know that God ruleth in Jacob unto the ends of the earth.' Psychologically, 'wrath' can be read as the necessary intensity of feeling required to break up entrenched scripts — a fierce determination to no longer rehearse self‑defeating scenes. The point is not maliciousness but an uncompromising commitment to let the creative principle 'rule in Jacob' — Jacob here representing the subjective self. Let the Imagination govern the subjective life so its authority spreads 'unto the ends of the earth' — that is, so the inner transformation manifests across all spheres of experience.

'Selah' appears twice as the psalmic punctuation for pause. These pauses are invitations: stop and feel. They are not moments for analysis; they are the spaces in which to embody the newly chosen mood. When the psalm repeatedly returns to the evening‑dogs motif, and yet twice commands Selah, the psalm teaches the essential practice — when rumination prowls, pause, arrest thought, and enter the felt assumption of protection. The pause simply allows the Imagination to re‑arrange the scene.

'Let them wander up and down for meat, and grudge if they be not satisfied.' The enemies will continue to forage — they seek evidence to feed themselves. This verse recognizes that unwanted thoughts will strive for nourishment. The wise response is not to give them the meal they crave (attention and feeling) but to present, by inner rehearsal and imaginative occupation, a different feast: the experience of safety, of laughter at their impotence, of the fulfillment of desire.

'But I will sing of thy power; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning: for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble.' The psalm ends by prescribing practice. Singing in the morning is the deliberate rehearsal of the wish fulfilled at a time when the mind is fresh. Morning praise is the act of assuming the victorious mood before the day’s dramas call it into question. 'Defence and refuge' are not fortresses of avoidance but temperaments cultivated by imagination: a state you return to, a premise you enact. The pattern is clear — the inner creative power is both defender and liberator when it is assumed and trusted.

In practical terms this chapter instructs on how to work with imagination: identify the inner 'dogs' and 'swords' as recurrent patterns; invoke the inner creator as defender; refuse to nourish the scripts; use Selah pauses to feel the wish fulfilled; wait in the strength of that mood; sing the new state into the morning; laugh at the absurdity of the old tyrannies; scatter rather than attempt to annihilate parts of the self so integration and learning occur. The Psalm is a manual for inner warfare in which imagination is both the general and the army, and the theater of battle is consciousness itself. When used this way, the words cease to be historical accident and become precise psychological surgery — the soul's roadmap from siege to sovereignty.

Common Questions About Psalms 59

How does Neville Goddard interpret Psalm 59?

Neville Goddard reads Psalm 59 as an inner drama where the supposed enemies are states of consciousness and the Lord is the I AM, the imagination that protects and vindicates you; he urges us to assume the state of having been delivered and to live in that end already accomplished. In this view the psalmist’s cry for deliverance, the image of enemies prowling at evening, and the declaration that God laughs at them become metaphors for moving from fear into the restful awareness of one’s imagined victory. By dwelling in that imagined, assumed state the outer circumstance reshapes itself to reflect the inward reality (Psalm 59).

What I AM statements correspond to Psalm 59?

Craft I AM statements that embody deliverance, defense, and mercy: I AM defended and guided, I AM the refuge and strength, I AM untouched by the slander of others, I AM the laughter that dissolves fear, I AM the mercy that overcomes hostility, I AM settled in the assurance of my desire fulfilled. Speak them in present tense with feeling, as if already true, and imagine scenes that prove them to yourself; the repeated assumption of these I AM declarations will recalibrate your consciousness and cause circumstances to conform to the inner fact (cf. Psalm 59).

How do I meditate on Psalm 59 to change my consciousness?

Begin by quietly reading the psalm inwardly as if it were describing your present state, then relax and imagine the sense of being watched over and vindicated; see the prowling enemies as outer appearances that return at evening and fade when you keep the core of your consciousness in peace. Focus on sensory details—the sound of rejoicing, the relief in your body, the steadiness of your breath—until the feeling of deliverance is dominant. Repeat nightly and carry that assumed state into the day; persist in the new state until it becomes your natural consciousness and external events adjust to it (Psalm 59).

Can Psalm 59 be used as a visualization for removing enemies?

Yes, when you understand enemies as inner oppositions—fear, doubt, accusation—you can visualize their influence dispersed rather than seek harm: imagine them wandering away at evening, impotent and complaining, while you stand secure in a circle of light that represents your assumed state of being defended. Do not imagine destruction of persons; instead visualize the scattering of hostile thoughts and the cessation of their power over you, keeping mercy and order in mind as the psalm counsels (Psalm 59:8, 11). This imaginal act, repeated with feeling, dissolves the enemy’s hold and manifests inner freedom.

How can I use Psalm 59 for manifestation and inner protection?

Use Psalm 59 as a script for embodying the protective state rather than petitioning from lack: before sleep imagine the scene of your deliverance, feel the safety and relief as if the issue is resolved, and hold that feeling against any contrary evidence until it becomes natural. Treat the “enemies” as transient thoughts circling the city of your consciousness at evening and consciously refuse to engage; instead occupy the fortress of your divine I AM, singing of strength and mercy in the morning (Psalm 59:16). Consistency in assuming the wished-for state will manifest inner protection and outward change.