Study Desk

"When times get bad, people cry out for help. They cry for relief from being kicked around, But never give God a thought when things go well, when God puts spontaneous songs in their hearts, When God sets out the entire creation as a science classroom, using birds and beasts to teach wisdom. People are arrogantly indifferent to God— until, of course, they're in trouble, and then God is indifferent to them. There's nothing behind such prayers except panic; the Almighty pays them no mind. So why would he notice you just because you say you're tired of waiting to be heard, Or waiting for him to get good and angry and do something about the world's problems?

"Can you teach the lioness to stalk her prey and satisfy the appetite of her cubs As they crouch in their den, waiting hungrily in their cave? And who sets out food for the ravens when their young cry to God, fluttering about because they have no food?"

I call to you, God, because I'm sure of an answer. So—answer! bend your ear! listen sharp! Paint grace-graffiti on the fences; take in your frightened children who Are running from the neighborhood bullies straight to you.

Earth wobbles and lurches; huge mountains shake like leaves, Quake like aspen leaves because of his rage. His nostrils flare, bellowing smoke; his mouth spits fire. Tongues of fire dart in and out; he lowers the sky. He steps down; under his feet an abyss opens up. He's riding a winged creature, swift on wind-wings. Now he's wrapped himself in a trenchcoat of black-cloud darkness. But his cloud-brightness bursts through, spraying hailstones and fireballs. Then God thundered out of heaven; the High God gave a great shout, spraying hailstones and fireballs. God shoots his arrows—pandemonium! He hurls his lightnings—a rout! The secret sources of ocean are exposed, the hidden depths of earth lie uncovered The moment you roar in protest, let loose your hurricane anger.

Because they have no idea how God works or what he is up to, God will smash them to smithereens and walk away from the ruins.

Desperate, I throw myself on you: you are my God! Hour by hour I place my days in your hand, safe from the hands out to get me. Warm me, your servant, with a smile; save me because you love me. Don't embarrass me by not showing up; I've given you plenty of notice. Embarrass the wicked, stand them up, leave them stupidly shaking their heads as they drift down to hell. Gag those loudmouthed liars who heckle me, your follower, with jeers and catcalls.

I've lost twenty pounds in two months because of your accusation. My bones are brittle as dry sticks because of my sin. I'm swamped by my bad behavior, collapsed under gunnysacks of guilt.

The cuts in my flesh stink and grow maggots because I've lived so badly. And now I'm flat on my face feeling sorry for myself morning to night. All my insides are on fire, my body is a wreck. I'm on my last legs; I've had it— my life is a vomit of groans.

So don't be impressed with those who get rich and pile up fame and fortune. They can't take it with them; fame and fortune all get left behind. Just when they think they've arrived and folks praise them because they've made good, They enter the family burial plot where they'll never see sunshine again.

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.

God, mark us with grace and blessing! Smile! The whole country will see how you work, all the godless nations see how you save. God! Let people thank and enjoy you. Let all people thank and enjoy you. Let all far-flung people become happy and shout their happiness because You judge them fair and square, you tend the far-flung peoples. God! Let people thank and enjoy you. Let all people thank and enjoy you. Earth, display your exuberance! You mark us with blessing, O God, our God. You mark us with blessing, O God. Earth's four corners—honor him!

Because of you I look like an idiot, I walk around ashamed to show my face.

I love you more than I can say. Because I'm madly in love with you, They blame me for everything they dislike about you.

Now answer me, God , because you love me; Let me see your great mercy full-face.

Foes will fall on their knees before God, his enemies lick the dust. Kings remote and legendary will pay homage, kings rich and resplendent will turn over their wealth. All kings will fall down and worship, and godless nations sign up to serve him, Because he rescues the poor at the first sign of need, the destitute who have run out of luck. He opens a place in his heart for the down-and-out, he restores the wretched of the earth. He frees them from tyranny and torture— when they bleed, he bleeds; when they die, he dies.

You who sit down in the High God's presence, spend the night in Shaddai's shadow, Say this: " God , you're my refuge. I trust in you and I'm safe!" That's right—he rescues you from hidden traps, shields you from deadly hazards. His huge outstretched arms protect you— under them you're perfectly safe; his arms fend off all harm. Fear nothing—not wild wolves in the night, not flying arrows in the day, Not disease that prowls through the darkness, not disaster that erupts at high noon. Even though others succumb all around, drop like flies right and left, no harm will even graze you. You'll stand untouched, watch it all from a distance, watch the wicked turn into corpses. Yes, because God 's your refuge, the High God your very own home, Evil can't get close to you, harm can't get through the door. He ordered his angels to guard you wherever you go. If you stumble, they'll catch you; their job is to keep you from falling. You'll walk unharmed among lions and snakes, and kick young lions and serpents from the path.

And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods. In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains. He made Ocean—he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth!

class="poetry"> Come, let's shout praises to God , raise the roof for the Rock who saved us! Let's march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns! And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods. In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains. He made Ocean—he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth! So come, let us worship: bow before him, on your knees before God , who made us! Oh yes, he's our God, and we're the people he pastures, the flock he feeds. Drop everything and listen, listen as he speaks: "Don't turn a deaf ear as in the Bitter Uprising, As on the day of the Wilderness Test, when your ancestors turned and put me to the test. For forty years they watched me at work among them, as over and over they tried my patience. And I was provoked—oh, was I provoked! ‘Can't they keep their minds on God for five minutes? Do they simply refuse to walk down my road?' Exasperated, I exploded, ‘They'll never get where they're headed, never be able to sit down and rest.'"

class="poetry"> Come, let's shout praises to God , raise the roof for the Rock who saved us! Let's march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns! And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods. In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains. He made Ocean—he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth! So come, let us worship: bow before him, on your knees before God , who made us! Oh yes, he's our God, and we're the people he pastures, the flock he feeds. Drop everything and listen, listen as he speaks: "Don't turn a deaf ear as in the Bitter Uprising, As on the day of the Wilderness Test, when your ancestors turned and put me to the test. For forty years they watched me at work among them, as over and over they tried my patience. And I was provoked—oh, was I provoked! ‘Can't they keep their minds on God for five minutes? Do they simply refuse to walk down my road?' Exasperated, I exploded, ‘They'll never get where they're headed, never be able to sit down and rest.'"

class="poetry"> Come, let's shout praises to God , raise the roof for the Rock who saved us! Let's march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns! And why? Because God is the best, High King over all the gods. In one hand he holds deep caves and caverns, in the other hand grasps the high mountains. He made Ocean—he owns it! His hands sculpted Earth! So come, let us worship: bow before him, on your knees before God , who made us! Oh yes, he's our God, and we're the people he pastures, the flock he feeds. Drop everything and listen, listen as he speaks: "Don't turn a deaf ear as in the Bitter Uprising, As on the day of the Wilderness Test, when your ancestors turned and put me to the test. For forty years they watched me at work among them, as over and over they tried my patience. And I was provoked—oh, was I provoked! ‘Can't they keep their minds on God for five minutes? Do they simply refuse to walk down my road?' Exasperated, I exploded, ‘They'll never get where they're headed, never be able to sit down and rest.'"