Study Desk

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God.

When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse everything I know of you, From Jordan depths to Hermon heights, including Mount Mizar. Chaos calls to chaos, to the tune of whitewater rapids. Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers crash and crush me. Then God promises to love me all day, sing songs all through the night! My life is God's prayer.

Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God, "Why did you let me down? Why am I walking around in tears, harassed by enemies?" They're out for the kill, these tormentors with their obscenities, Taunting day after day, "Where is this God of yours?"

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God.

Clear my name, God; stick up for me against these loveless, immoral people. Get me out of here, away from these lying degenerates. I counted on you, God. Why did you walk out on me? Why am I pacing the floor, wringing my hands over these outrageous people?

Give me your lantern and compass, give me a map, So I can find my way to the sacred mountain, to the place of your presence, To enter the place of worship, meet my exuberant God, Sing my thanks with a harp, magnificent God, my God.

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God.

A Psalm of the Sons of Korah We've been hearing about this, God, all our lives. Our fathers told us the stories their fathers told them, How single-handedly you weeded out the godless from the fields and planted us, How you sent those people packing but gave us a fresh start. We didn't fight for this land; we didn't work for it—it was a gift! You gave it, smiling as you gave it, delighting as you gave it.

You're my King, O God— command victories for Jacob! With your help we'll wipe out our enemies, in your name we'll stomp them to dust. I don't trust in weapons; my sword won't save me— But it's you, you who saved us from the enemy; you made those who hate us lose face. All day we parade God's praise— we thank you by name over and over.

If we had forgotten to pray to our God or made fools of ourselves with store-bought gods, Wouldn't God have figured this out? We can't hide things from him. No, you decided to make us martyrs, lambs assigned for sacrifice each day.

Get up, God ! Are you going to sleep all day? Wake up! Don't you care what happens to us? Why do you bury your face in the pillow? Why pretend things are just fine with us? And here we are—flat on our faces in the dirt, held down with a boot on our necks. Get up and come to our rescue. If you love us so much, Help us!

"You're the handsomest of men; every word from your lips is sheer grace, and God has blessed you, blessed you so much. Strap your sword to your side, warrior! Accept praise! Accept due honor! Ride majestically! Ride triumphantly! Ride on the side of truth! Ride for the righteous meek! "Your instructions are glow-in-the-dark; you shoot sharp arrows Into enemy hearts; the king's foes lie down in the dust, beaten. "Your throne is God's throne, ever and always; The scepter of your royal rule measures right living. You love the right and hate the wrong. And that is why God, your very own God, poured fragrant oil on your head, Marking you out as king from among your dear companions. "Your ozone-drenched garments are fragrant with mountain breeze. Chamber music—from the throne room— makes you want to dance. Kings' daughters are maids in your court, the Bride glittering with golden jewelry. "Now listen, daughter, don't miss a word: forget your country, put your home behind you. Be here—the king is wild for you. Since he's your lord, adore him. Wedding gifts pour in from Tyre; rich guests shower you with presents." (Her wedding dress is dazzling, lined with gold by the weavers; All her dresses and robes are woven with gold. She is led to the king, followed by her virgin companions. A procession of joy and laughter! a grand entrance to the king's palace!) "Set your mind now on sons— don't dote on father and grandfather. You'll set your sons up as princes all over the earth. I'll make you famous for generations; you'll be the talk of the town for a long, long time."

class="psalm-title"> A Wedding Song of the Sons of Korah My heart bursts its banks, spilling beauty and goodness. I pour it out in a poem to the king, shaping the river into words: "You're the handsomest of men; every word from your lips is sheer grace, and God has blessed you, blessed you so much. Strap your sword to your side, warrior! Accept praise! Accept due honor! Ride majestically! Ride triumphantly! Ride on the side of truth! Ride for the righteous meek! "Your instructions are glow-in-the-dark; you shoot sharp arrows Into enemy hearts; the king's foes lie down in the dust, beaten.

"Your throne is God's throne, ever and always; The scepter of your royal rule measures right living. You love the right and hate the wrong. And that is why God, your very own God, poured fragrant oil on your head, Marking you out as king from among your dear companions.

A Song of the Sons of Korah God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him. We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in seastorm and earthquake, Before the rush and roar of oceans, the tremors that shift mountains. Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God -of-Angel-Armies protects us.

River fountains splash joy, cooling God's city, this sacred haunt of the Most High. God lives here, the streets are safe, God at your service from crack of dawn. Godless nations rant and rave, kings and kingdoms threaten, but Earth does anything he says.

Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God -of-Angel-Armies protects us.

Attention, all! See the marvels of God ! He plants flowers and trees all over the earth, Bans war from pole to pole, breaks all the weapons across his knee. "Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything."

Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God -of-Angel-Armies protects us.

A Psalm of the Sons of Korah Applause, everyone. Bravo, bravissimo! Shout God-songs at the top of your lungs! God Most High is stunning, astride land and ocean. He crushes hostile people, puts nations at our feet. He set us at the head of the line, prize-winning Jacob, his favorite. Loud cheers as God climbs the mountain, a ram's horn blast at the summit. Sing songs to God, sing out! Sing to our King, sing praise! He's Lord over earth, so sing your best songs to God. God is Lord of godless nations— sovereign, he's King of the mountain. Princes from all over are gathered, people of Abraham's God. The powers of earth are God's— he soars over all.