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Rex H. Henderson

 PSALM 38

A Psalm of David, to bring to remembrance.

O LORD, rebuke me not in thy wrath: neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore. There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine anger; neither is there any rest in my bones because of my sin. For mine iniquities are gone over mine head: as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me. My wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolishness. I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long. For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease: and there is no soundness in my flesh. I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart. Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee. My heart panteth, my strength faileth me: as for the light of mine eyes, it also is gone from me. My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore; and my kinsmen stand afar off. They also that seek after my life lay snares for me: and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long. But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth. Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs. For in thee, O LORD, do I hope: thou wilt hear, O Lord my God. For I said, Hear me, lest otherwise they should rejoice over me: when my foot slippeth, they magnify themselves against me. For I am ready to halt, and my sorrow is continually before me. For I will declare mine iniquity; I will be sorry for my sin. But mine enemies are lively, and they are strong: and they that hate me wrongfully are multiplied. They also that render evil for good are mine adversaries; because I follow the thing that good is. Forsake me not, O LORD: O my God, be not far from me. Make haste to help me, O Lord my salvation.  (Psalm 38, KJV)

 

Psalm 38

A Wounded Soul Cries for Help

David was wounded and miserable,
With Physical and mental wounds,
Wounds of guilt. God’s arrows
Were piercing, his heart pounds.

The wounds festered, pains riddles
His feeble body. No Doctor, Nurse,
Or remedy was available; crushed
Helpless and suffering under a curse.

Under the curse of sin, conviction,
Loneliness, and at the end of the trail,
David lifts tainted hands to the sky
And cries for mercy to prevail.

Sickness, slander and sin requires
The special aid of heaven. The sweetest
Thing about the case, it gives new life
To prayer and eagerness to request.

Make haste to help me. The poor pleader,
Far gone, needed speedy help then!
God forgave. Sin was turned to joy, grief
To gratitude, and his hell into Heaven.

 

(c) Rex H. Henderson 2003

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