Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 143:8

Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning. If evil fall upon us in the night, we would have it removed ere the morning; if in the morning, we would not have it our bed fellow in the evening. We would have the Lord's promise run thus, —Your sorrows shall not endure the whole night, your joy shall come long before the morning. The luxurious Emperor ?Smyndirides the Sybarite and his drunken mates sat and drank all the night, and slept all the day, insomuch that it was said of them, they never saw sunset nor sunrise. Such would we have the evils we suffer —of so short continuance that, neither sunset nor sunrise might see us in our misery. This makes me wonder at that strange Egyptian beast called Pharaoh, who being demanded of Moses when he would have God's plague of the frogs removed, answered, "Tomorrow." Surely, here he spake not as a man, to whom one hour's trouble is accounted a day, a day a month, a month a year. For in leaving of two things we change our desires, and are much different.

1. In leaving of sin, then we procrastinate and put off; and when God says, "Today hear my voice", we answer, "Tomorrow", and are like the Levite's wife's father (Jud 19:6), too kind hosts to such bad guests: saying to our sins, "tarry till the morning." Our pace to repentance is slow, we are far from haste in that matter.

2. But for afflictions to leave us, then we wish they had feet like hinds' feet, to run away from us, or we the wings of a dove to fly away from them, and be at rest...What prisoner desires not to be presently set free, and that liberty's soft hand may loose his iron knots? What mariner wishes a long storm? What servant sighs not over his hard apprenticeship? Yea, who is he, that if there were an appearance of an offering to take the cup of calamity from his mouth, saying, "Thou shalt drink no more", would answer, "This cup shall not yet pass from me, I delight to carouse and drink deeply of these bitter waters"? Yea, this desire extends so far that it comes to the Son of man, the blessed Seed of the woman, who was so clad with human weakness that he earnestly prayed for speedy help from his heavy anguish; and that not once, but often, —"Oh, my Father, if it be possible", etc.; and when his Father answers not, he cries like one ready to fall under the burden, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" The reason for Christ's thus complaining is to be fetched from thence, whence his flesh came; even from us. It was our human flesh, not his Divine spirit, which was so weary of suffering; his spirit was willing, it was our flesh that was so weak. —Thomas Calvert.