King David certainly did. And in the book of Psalms, specifically Psalm 86, we find him pleading: "My Lord, guide me in Your path."
But it's not just a simple request. According to Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Psalms, David is saying something profound: "If You see me deviating from Your path, it is for You that I do so." It's a mind-bending idea, isn't it? That even our missteps, our moments of straying, can somehow be part of a larger divine plan.
Rabbi Yitzhak, in the name of Rabbi Chanina bar Abba, offers a powerful parable to illustrate this. Imagine a farmer with two cows. One is a hardworking plow cow, the other… not so much. So, what does the farmer do? He takes the yoke from the diligent cow and places it on the lazy one, forcing it to plow. He makes the unwilling cow work.
The parallel, of course, is to our own internal struggles. Our yetzer hara (יֵצֶר הָרַע), the "evil inclination," that voice inside us that whispers temptations and pulls us away from what we know is right. We can't just let it run wild. We have to take control, to "guide it to where it desires not to go," as the Midrash puts it. We must force it to plow.
The Midrash continues, “Guide me in Your path, Lord.” I will thank You, Lord, with all my heart, both with the yetzer tov (יֵצֶר טוֹב), the good inclination, and with the yetzer hara, that I may not be ensnared by them.” David understood that even the negative impulses could, paradoxically, lead to a deeper appreciation of the good. It’s through overcoming temptation that we truly strengthen our character.
Rabbi Chiya raises another crucial point, questioning the phrase: "And You saved my soul from the lowest depths?" Rabbi Yudan answers with a stark image: "The path of adulterers is set in the depths of Sheol" (שְׁאוֹל), the underworld, a place of darkness and separation from God.
So, David isn't just asking for guidance in a general sense. He's pleading for rescue from the most dangerous, most soul-crushing pitfalls. He acknowledges that God's kindness is immense, that He has the power to lift us out of the deepest despair. "Guide me," David prays, "for Your kindness is great upon me, and You have saved my soul from the depths of Sheol."
What resonates so powerfully in this passage from Midrash Tehillim is the raw honesty about the human condition. We’re not perfect. We struggle. We stumble. But the key is to recognize those struggles, to acknowledge the pull of the yetzer hara, and to actively seek guidance. To yoke that recalcitrant part of ourselves and force it to work towards good. And ultimately, to give thanks for both the good and the difficult, knowing that even our darkest moments can be transformed into opportunities for growth and a deeper connection with the divine.