My mouth will tell of your righteous acts,
of your deeds of salvation all the day,
for their number is past my knowledge.
—Psalm 71: 15, ESV
At his old age and his dying breath, the psalmist would be considered ancient amongst his peers. He has seen so much of the world nothing surprises him anymore. He has experienced so much in his short life (at least he always convinced himself that his life was short) he could always show wise counsel to whoever who needed it. He was not perfect, nor he wished or lusted to become so. His attitude was as upright as a citizen could be, bar a few understandable moments of anger.
But today, his strengths were finally spent: for the first time in his life, he felt the tremors of death rattle his body to the core. Every anxious fiber in his body would shake him at once. Even in his deathbed, he never felt such horrible images of dread inside him! He was forced to relive the traumas of the past: those who pointed at him, those whom he disappointed, those who failed him, all the innumerable times he failed God. Could he finally rest in peace with such images tormenting him? Was it possible not to be tormented at this point in his life? There were no physical enemies tormenting him... Could it be the enemy lurking within him?
Then he remembered those moments of loneliness, where he reached up to the heavens in search for comfort. And that time one of his sons had a debilitating fever that almost killed him—and suddenly, it disappeared. Or that time they had nothing to eat and thought they would die of hunger, and his wife suddenly found a basket full of fruits and vegetables and fresh milk on the front door. Who would be so merciful to help them in those moments they never knew? What other little miracles has he forgotten or neglected in his remembrance of life? There are too many to count, and more than enough to dispel the shadows away!
And, with such realizations, the wise man could finally rest in peace,