I opened my Bible at Psalm 112 this morning. To be honest it’s been a while since I have read it and I was glad it was a Psalm. I love the Psalms especially those written by King David. They are honest and raw. Brilliant, brooding and bloody. Warts and all. They are a safe place for me. I am with David in a cave as he pours his heart and soul out.
He writes desperately and deeply. They are poetry to me, soothing and comforting. Like cough medicine sliding down a ravaged throat or a duvet wrapped round you on a cold winter’s morning. They heal me, restore me and bring me back to life. Armed with such words I feel stronger and ready to step out of the cave into the harsh reality of life. Armed with the truth of the written Word.
The verse I got stuck…
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