Deliver me from all my transgressions. Do not make me the scorn of the fool! I am mute; I do not open my mouth, for it is You who have done it. Remove Your stroke from me; I am spent by the hostility of Your hand. When You discipline a man with rebukes for sin, You consume like a moth what is dear to him; surely all mankind is a mere breath! Selah
It’s almost funny, Lord, the way you take away the sin I treasured and held so dear. No, not almost, it is hilarious. Those dreams of wealth and fame, now shown to be will-o-wisps that lured me from serving you, gone (mostly). Keep at me, Lord, but always remind me of how much You love me.
No comments:
Post a Comment