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April 20th, 2010

I was reading Stephen Mitchell's version of the 147th Psalm.:

How sweet to sing praises to you,
     Unnamable God,
     and to thank you for all your blessings.
You rebuild what has been ruined
     and recreate what was lost.
You heal the brokenhearted;
     you are medicine for their wounds.
You lift up the afflicted
     and give them the courage to endure.
You count the myriad stars
     and call each one by name.
Infinite is your power,
     incalculable your wisdom.
You scatter snow like wool
     and sprinkle the frost like ashes.
You strew ice crystals like breadcrumbs:
     the earth becomes bitter cold.
You breathe warm winds and the ice melts;
     you blow and the waters flash.
You cover the sky with clouds;
     you send down your rain to the earth,
making grass grow on the hills
     and plains to nourish all men.
You give the wild animals their prey;
     you feed the young ravens when they cry.
You delight in the power of the horse
     and take pleasure in the legs of an athlete.
But most, you rejoice in a pure heart
   and in those who let you shine through them.
You give them joy in your joy,
     and you bless their love with your love.
You bring peace to their families
     and grant them your infinite wealth.
You send your wisdom to their minds;
     your light runs faster than a thought.
Above all others they are blessed,
     because they can hear you speak.
(Though your love speaks to all people
     in the silence of every heart.)

Well, that sure is lovely, but...Collapse )

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bobby1933
bobby1933

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