Psalm 7—Make our weary, waning days into a refiner’s fire.
Lord, I am on the run. This has all gone farther Than I could have imagined. I am in the wind. I have seen what hunts my trail And crouches at my door. If my enemies have their way, They will swallow me whole. Lord, I am not innocent. I have repaid evil for good; I have brooded thoughts That hatched like vipers; I have heard the song of revenge And have added my own voice. If my enemies are right and I am wrong, Lay me low, overthrow me. I feel your anger churn against me And my pursuers alike, But do not let me fall into their hands. You are the only just judge. You will make no mistake, And nothing will take you by surprise. You have appointed a day To gather us to yourself. On that day, remember When I walked with you. Bring evil to an end, But make every tender shoot Of goodness burst to blossom. Make our weary, waning days Into a refiner’s fire. Make these fears A crucible, just as silver meets itself Before the dross is lifted. You know how to save the righteous, And you know how to lay low the wicked. Your weapons are ready at hand; You will not let evil go unchecked. You will not let harm breed forever. You will whistle their own works Back to hound them. But when you are lifted up, Where will the judgment fall? When you have the final word, What will you say? Whatever comes, I will give you praise.
Psalm 35—I have laughed loud and late with them when their razor words were the only jokes around.
Lord, I do not need to look far to find My enemies. They are right here, Sitting at my right and left, Snapping with dull teeth, shaking me down, Faces all pallid as bone; Hotscrabble, grasping, devious as hell. They kick a shallow hole and lay me down in it. They have told me lies, but I can’t tell which ones. Lord, contend with them. I never thought I’d need the hew And hem of battle, but here I am. Bind your buckler on your arm. Lay about me left and right— Shield, sword, and holy spear. Prove you are my salvation. Run your fleet fork through them. Send your winnow wind to whip The chaff away. Billow and break Their limelight laughter at my expense. Hunt them. Hound them. Rattle them down. Tip them into their own pits. Toss them into the teeth of their own plans. They hunted me for nothing. My innocence only drew them on. Lord, when will it be enough? When they were afflicted, I stood in their stead In the mouth of the thresher I wore sackcloth and prayed. They slipped, and I was shaken. I gave freely what they would have taken. I lost ground. I tumbled down. I fasted for nights. I didn’t sleep. I carved their names into every moment of my day And clutched their affliction close to my heart. But the moment I slipped, I saw the gleam of teeth in all their wild words. Everyone laughed and blamed me. They marked the day my strength failed So that it would not be forgotten. They kept it like a holy day, Gathering each year to drink To the time my hope ran out. How long will this go on? When will you come to the final number Of the long count of days We have waited for justice? I only wanted rest. I only want the quiet to settle Down around me in circles. But now people I never met use my name To pick the meat from their teeth. They wink at each other and spit gristle And crack my soul’s bones. They chew my secrets and say, “We swallowed him up And it was delicious.” I know you are not sleeping, God. You are not absent or busy. You see all of this, so why keep silent? Your prophets have always been Too paltry to stand up for themselves. Give me back the years I lost. Pry open grief’s grasping hands. Pass my enemies back a double portion For each brittle, bated night I half went mad. Lord, you let your people suffer, But you do not let us lose. Enough. Draw this to a close. Make happiness and peace return to me Like birds to eat from my hands. Set down the long last line: “The Lord saves the humble because he delights in goodness.”
Psalm 5—I never thought my hope would fail, but I have watched it wear to a nub.
Lord, hear me out. My hope is barely a whisper. I have only a sigh for prayer; A Godflung gossamer breath That flashes in the sun like spider silk And is gone. I can tell I am not who I used to be, But this morning I rally all The help I can ask for. I never thought my hope would fail But I have watched it wear to a nub. Now, I arrange all my needs in a row. I raise my voice when there are words And raise a song when there are not. Hear me, Lord. Watch. Remember. Evil gives you no pleasure. No stain mars your beauty. Nothing boastful can stand Before you and beat its chest. Yet here I am, broken and bent; Scattered, trussed, and tumbling. I feared all the wrong things. I have chased what you hate And called it good. There is more than blood on my hands, And two lies for every truth on my lips. I’ve been a harlot to the mirror’s glances, A long and weary marionette. Yet, I draw near to your house. I bow at the threshold of your temple. Your goodness cascades over me. There is no end of it, but addition. I didn’t know it would be like this. I spent so long trying To earn a kindness That was already mine; Afraid I would never find a grace That I could not lose. Lord, make my path straight before me. Lead me in your way. I have come this far, But I am harried by so many things That would eat me alive. I can’t seem to shake them. They entice me with words As wide as open graves. I know I will find only trouble; I know their lies are ghost lights, But I still want to follow. End this, Lord. Collapse This down around our ears. Scatter the rabble dogging me And teach me to say yes To what is good. If I ever needed a refuge, It is now. Shelter me. Hear my prayer. Gather me in That everyone you love Could be here to one place, Could lift our heads and laugh And raise a strong song. You bless all the lost Who take refuge in you. Truly, you are a shelter and a shield. There is no other.
So good, Andy Patton! Thank you for this laboring effort to restate these timeless truths. Good work!