1 Comment

  1. cathy
    August 4, 2020 @ 11:29 am

    The Message;
    Psalm 73 1-5 No doubt about it! God is good—
    good to good people, good to the good-hearted.
    But I nearly missed it,
    missed seeing his goodness.
    I was looking the other way,
    looking up to the people
    At the top,
    envying the wicked who have it made,
    Who have nothing to worry about,
    not a care in the whole wide world.

    6-10 Pretentious with arrogance,
    they wear the latest fashions in violence,
    Pampered and overfed,
    decked out in silk bows of silliness.
    They jeer, using words to kill;
    they bully their way with words.
    They’re full of hot air,
    loudmouths disturbing the peace.
    People actually listen to them—can you believe it?
    Like thirsty puppies, they lap up their words.

    11-14 What’s going on here? Is God out to lunch?
    Nobody’s tending the store.
    The wicked get by with everything;
    they have it made, piling up riches.
    I’ve been stupid to play by the rules;
    what has it gotten me?
    A long run of bad luck, that’s what—
    a slap in the face every time I walk out the door.

    15-20 If I’d have given in and talked like this,
    I would have betrayed your dear children.
    Still, when I tried to figure it out,
    all I got was a splitting headache . . .
    Until I entered the sanctuary of God.
    Then I saw the whole picture:
    The slippery road you’ve put them on,
    with a final crash in a ditch of delusions.
    In the blink of an eye, disaster!
    A blind curve in the dark, and—nightmare!
    We wake up and rub our eyes. . . . Nothing.
    There’s nothing to them. And there never was.

    21-24 When I was beleaguered and bitter,
    totally consumed by envy,
    I was totally ignorant, a dumb ox
    in your very presence.
    I’m still in your presence,
    but you’ve taken my hand.
    You wisely and tenderly lead me,
    and then you bless me.

    25-28 You’re all I want in heaven!
    You’re all I want on earth!
    When my skin sags and my bones get brittle,
    God is rock-firm and faithful.
    Look! Those who left you are falling apart!
    Deserters, they’ll never be heard from again.
    But I’m in the very presence of God—
    oh, how refreshing it is!
    I’ve made Lord God my home.
    God, I’m telling the world what you do!

    Psalm 74
    The Message
    An Asaph Psalm
    74 You walked off and left us, and never looked back.
    God, how could you do that?
    We’re your very own sheep;
    how can you stomp off in anger?

    2-3 Refresh your memory of us—you bought us a long time ago.
    Your most precious tribe—you paid a good price for us!
    Your very own Mount Zion—you actually lived here once!
    Come and visit the site of disaster,
    see how they’ve wrecked the sanctuary.

    4-8 While your people were at worship, your enemies barged in,
    brawling and scrawling graffiti.
    They set fire to the porch;
    axes swinging, they chopped up the woodwork,
    Beat down the doors with sledgehammers,
    then split them into kindling.
    They burned your holy place to the ground,
    violated the place of worship.
    They said to themselves, “We’ll wipe them all out,”
    and burned down all the places of worship.

    9-17 There’s not a sign or symbol of God in sight,
    nor anyone to speak in his name,
    no one who knows what’s going on.
    How long, God, will barbarians blaspheme,
    enemies curse and get by with it?
    Why don’t you do something? How long are you going
    to sit there with your hands folded in your lap?
    God is my King from the very start;
    he works salvation in the womb of the earth.
    With one blow you split the sea in two,
    you made mincemeat of the dragon Tannin.
    You lopped off the heads of Leviathan,
    then served them up in a stew for the animals.
    With your finger you opened up springs and creeks,
    and dried up the wild floodwaters.
    You own the day, you own the night;
    you put stars and sun in place.
    You laid out the four corners of earth,
    shaped the seasons of summer and winter.

    18-21 Mark and remember, God, all the enemy
    taunts, each idiot desecration.
    Don’t throw your lambs to the wolves;
    after all we’ve been through, don’t forget us.
    Remember your promises;
    the city is in darkness, the countryside violent.
    Don’t leave the victims to rot in the street;
    make them a choir that sings your praises.

    22-23 On your feet, O God—
    stand up for yourself!
    Do you hear what they’re saying about you,
    all the vile obscenities?
    Don’t tune out their malicious filth,
    the brawling invective that never lets up.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *