Transgression speaks to the wicked deep in his heart; there is no fear of God before his eyes. For he flatters himself in his own eyes that his iniquity cannot be found out and hated. The words of his mouth are trouble and deceit; he has ceased to act wisely and do good. He plots trouble while on his bed; he sets himself in a way that is not good; he does not reject evil.
Lord, as I read this, my first thoughts are of the many men in the prison who think that, by regularly attending various times of worship and prayer, they are fooling us and You. Most likely, they are fooling me, but You, never. I do lift each one of them up in prayer that Your Spirit will smash through that wall of self that hides their inmost fears from the world around them.
But then, Lord, I realize that the wicked and foolish object of this prayer is me. The old man is in his death throes, but his dying kicks and flailings are still causing trouble. I am plagued by self, by the conviction that I can figure out how to do it (whatever it is?), that I can set priorities and schedules. Lord, it is akin to plotting evil in my bed! When will I learn to seek Your face first and then to follow Your guidance?
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