Psalm 62-64

The Message

^3-4 How long will you gang up on me?
    How long will you run with the bullies?
There’s nothing to you, any of you—
    rotten floorboards, worm-eaten rafters,
Anthills plotting to bring down mountains,
    far gone in make-believe.
You talk a good line,
    but every “blessing” breathes a curse.

^5-6 God, the one and only—
    I’ll wait as long as he says.
Everything I hope for comes from him,
    so why not?
He’s solid rock under my feet,
    breathing room for my soul,
An impregnable castle:
    I’m set for life.

^7-8 My help and glory are in God
    —granite-strength and safe-harbor-God—
So trust him absolutely, people;
    lay your lives on the line for him.
    God is a safe place to be.

⁹ Man as such is smoke,
    woman as such, a mirage.
Put them together, they’re nothing;
    two times nothing is nothing.

¹⁰ And a windfall, if it comes—
    don’t make too much of it.

¹¹ God said this once and for all;
    how many times
Have I heard it repeated?
    “Strength comes
Straight from God.”

¹² Love to you, Lord God!
    You pay a fair wage for a good day’s work!
63 God—you’re my God!
    I can’t get enough of you!
I’ve worked up such hunger and thirst for God,
    traveling across dry and weary deserts.

^2-4 So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,
    drinking in your strength and glory.
In your generous love I am really living at last!
    My lips brim praises like fountains.
I bless you every time I take a breath;
    My arms wave like banners of praise to you.

^5-8 I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;
    I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!
If I’m sleepless at midnight,
    I spend the hours in grateful reflection.
Because you’ve always stood up for me,
    I’m free to run and play.
I hold on to you for dear life,
    and you hold me steady as a post.

^9-11 Those who are out to get me are marked for doom,
    marked for death, bound for hell.
They’ll die violent deaths;
    jackals will tear them limb from limb.
But the king is glad in God;
    his true friends spread the joy,
While small-minded gossips
    are gagged for good.
64 Listen and help, O God.
    I’m reduced to a whine
And a whimper, obsessed
    with feelings of doomsday.

^2-6 Don’t let them find me—
    the conspirators out to get me,
Using their tongues as weapons,
    flinging poison words,
    poison-tipped arrow-words.
They shoot from ambush,
    shoot without warning,
    not caring who they hit.
They keep fit doing calisthenics
    of evil purpose,
They keep lists of the traps
    they’ve secretly set.
They say to each other,
    “No one can catch us,
    no one can detect our perfect crime.”
The Detective detects the mystery
    in the dark of the cellar heart.

^7-8 The God of the Arrow shoots!
    They double up in pain,
Fall flat on their faces
    in full view of the grinning crowd.

^9-10 Everyone sees it. God’s
    work is the talk of the town.
Be glad, good people! Fly to God!
    Good-hearted people, make praise your habit.