Study Desk

Bad guys have it in for the good guys, obsessed with doing them in. But God isn't losing any sleep; to him they're a joke with no punch line.

Less is more and more is less. One righteous will outclass fifty wicked, For the wicked are moral weaklings but the righteous are God -strong.

Turn your back on evil, work for the good and don't quit. God loves this kind of thing, never turns away from his friends. Live this way and you've got it made, but bad eggs will be tossed out. The good get planted on good land and put down healthy roots. Righteous chews on wisdom like a dog on a bone, rolls virtue around on his tongue. His heart pumps God's Word like blood through his veins; his feet are as sure as a cat's. Wicked sets a watch for Righteous, he's out for the kill. God , alert, is also on watch— Wicked won't hurt a hair of his head. Wait passionately for God , don't leave the path. He'll give you your place in the sun while you watch the wicked lose it. I saw Wicked bloated like a toad, croaking pretentious nonsense. The next time I looked there was nothing— a punctured bladder, vapid and limp. Keep your eye on the healthy soul, scrutinize the straight life; There's a future in strenuous wholeness. But the willful will soon be discarded; insolent souls are on a dead-end street. The spacious, free life is from God , it's also protected and safe. God -strengthened, we're delivered from evil— when we run to him, he saves us.

class="psalm-title"> A David Psalm Don't bother your head with braggarts or wish you could succeed like the wicked. In no time they'll shrivel like grass clippings and wilt like cut flowers in the sun. Get insurance with God and do a good deed, settle down and stick to your last. Keep company with God , get in on the best. Open up before God , keep nothing back; he'll do whatever needs to be done: He'll validate your life in the clear light of day and stamp you with approval at high noon. Quiet down before God , be prayerful before him. Don't bother with those who climb the ladder, who elbow their way to the top. Bridle your anger, trash your wrath, cool your pipes—it only makes things worse. Before long the crooks will be bankrupt; God -investors will soon own the store. Before you know it, the wicked will have had it; you'll stare at his once famous place and—nothing! Down-to-earth people will move in and take over, relishing a huge bonanza. Bad guys have it in for the good guys, obsessed with doing them in. But God isn't losing any sleep; to him they're a joke with no punch line. Bullies brandish their swords, pull back on their bows with a flourish. They're out to beat up on the harmless, or mug that nice man out walking his dog. A banana peel lands them flat on their faces— slapstick figures in a moral circus. Less is more and more is less. One righteous will outclass fifty wicked, For the wicked are moral weaklings but the righteous are God -strong. God keeps track of the decent folk; what they do won't soon be forgotten. In hard times, they'll hold their heads high; when the shelves are bare, they'll be full. God-despisers have had it; God 's enemies are finished— Stripped bare like vineyards at harvest time, vanished like smoke in thin air. Wicked borrows and never returns; Righteous gives and gives. Generous gets it all in the end; Stingy is cut off at the pass. Stalwart walks in step with God ; his path blazed by God , he's happy. If he stumbles, he's not down for long; God has a grip on his hand. I once was young, now I'm a graybeard— not once have I seen an abandoned believer, or his kids out roaming the streets. Every day he's out giving and lending, his children making him proud. Turn your back on evil, work for the good and don't quit. God loves this kind of thing, never turns away from his friends. Live this way and you've got it made, but bad eggs will be tossed out. The good get planted on good land and put down healthy roots.

Keep your eye on the healthy soul, scrutinize the straight life; There's a future in strenuous wholeness. But the willful will soon be discarded; insolent souls are on a dead-end street.

Lord, my longings are sitting in plain sight, my groans an old story to you. My heart's about to break; I'm a burned-out case. Cataracts blind me to God and good; old friends avoid me like the plague. My cousins never visit, my neighbors stab me in the back. My competitors blacken my name, devoutly they pray for my ruin. But I'm deaf and mute to it all, ears shut, mouth shut. I don't hear a word they say, don't speak a word in response. What I do, God , is wait for you, wait for my Lord, my God—you will answer! I wait and pray so they won't laugh me off, won't smugly strut off when I stumble.

A David Psalm I'm determined to watch steps and tongue so they won't land me in trouble. I decided to hold my tongue as long as Wicked is in the room. "Mum's the word," I said, and kept quiet. But the longer I kept silence The worse it got— my insides got hotter and hotter. My thoughts boiled over; I spilled my guts.

"What am I doing in the meantime, Lord? Hoping, that's what I'm doing—hoping You'll save me from a rebel life, save me from the contempt of dunces. I'll say no more, I'll shut my mouth, since you, Lord, are behind all this. But I can't take it much longer. When you put us through the fire to purge us from our sin, our dearest idols go up in smoke. Are we also nothing but smoke?

But all who are hunting for you— oh, let them sing and be happy. Let those who know what you're all about tell the world you're great and not quitting. And me? I'm a mess. I'm nothing and have nothing: make something of me. You can do it; you've got what it takes— but God, don't put it off.

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.

But now you've walked off and left us, you've disgraced us and won't fight for us. You made us turn tail and run; those who hate us have cleaned us out. You delivered us as sheep to the butcher, you scattered us to the four winds. You sold your people at a discount— you made nothing on the sale.

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.

This is what happens to those who live for the moment, who only look out for themselves: Death herds them like sheep straight to hell; they disappear down the gullet of the grave; They waste away to nothing— nothing left but a marker in a cemetery. But me? God snatches me from the clutch of death, he reaches down and grabs me.

"Are you listening, dear people? I'm getting ready to speak; Israel, I'm about ready to bring you to trial. This is God, your God, speaking to you. I don't find fault with your acts of worship, the frequent burnt sacrifices you offer. But why should I want your blue-ribbon bull, or more and more goats from your herds? Every creature in the forest is mine, the wild animals on all the mountains. I know every mountain bird by name; the scampering field mice are my friends. If I get hungry, do you think I'd tell you? All creation and its bounty are mine. Do you think I feast on venison? or drink draughts of goats' blood? Spread for me a banquet of praise, serve High God a feast of kept promises, And call for help when you're in trouble— I'll help you, and you'll honor me."

I call to God; God will help me. At dusk, dawn, and noon I sigh deep sighs—he hears, he rescues. My life is well and whole, secure in the middle of danger Even while thousands are lined up against me. God hears it all, and from his judge's bench puts them in their place. But, set in their ways, they won't change; they pay him no mind.

Pile your troubles on God 's shoulders— he'll carry your load, he'll help you out. He'll never let good people topple into ruin. But you, God, will throw the others into a muddy bog, Cut the lifespan of assassins and traitors in half. And I trust in you.

A David Psalm, When He Was Captured by the Philistines in Gath Take my side, God—I'm getting kicked around, stomped on every day. Not a day goes by but somebody beats me up; They make it their duty to beat me up. When I get really afraid I come to you in trust. I'm proud to praise God; fearless now, I trust in God. What can mere mortals do?

Desperadoes have ganged up on me, they're hiding in ambush for me. I did nothing to deserve this, God , crossed no one, wronged no one. All the same, they're after me, determined to get me. Wake up and see for yourself! You're God , God -of-Angel-Armies, Israel's God! Get on the job and take care of these pagans, don't be soft on these hard cases. They return when the sun goes down, They howl like coyotes, ringing the city. Then suddenly they're all at the gate, Snarling invective, drawn daggers in their teeth. They think they'll never get caught. But you, God , break out laughing; you treat the godless nations like jokes. Strong God, I'm watching you do it, I can always count on you. God in dependable love shows up on time, shows me my enemies in ruin. Don't make quick work of them, God , lest my people forget. Bring them down in slow motion, take them apart piece by piece. Let all their mean-mouthed arrogance catch up with them, Catch them out and bring them down —every muttered curse —every barefaced lie. Finish them off in fine style! Finish them off for good! Then all the world will see that God rules well in Jacob, everywhere that God's in charge. They return when the sun goes down, They howl like coyotes, ringing the city. They scavenge for bones, And bite the hand that feeds them. And me? I'm singing your prowess, shouting at cockcrow your largesse, For you've been a safe place for me, a good place to hide. Strong God, I'm watching you do it, I can always count on you— God, my dependable love.

But you, God , break out laughing; you treat the godless nations like jokes. Strong God, I'm watching you do it, I can always count on you. God in dependable love shows up on time, shows me my enemies in ruin.