The voices speak strong.
They shout my fear,
That God does not hear,
That He’s not near.
But are they wrong?
I watch and see to whom they flee.
Where do they go?
They trust in what their eyes can see,
A view that’s low.
They twist God’s power and His glory
To wring out shame upon His name.
And dream up stories…
Delusions… Lies…
And worship something tame.
I bow my head and sigh.
“My God!” I cry.
A voice speaks strong.
If I will yield
Then He himself will be my shield.
The Truth’s revealed.
Yes, they are wrong.
I'm posting this here, too, not just on BBC. After all, I did write it! So, my apologies if you've already read it there.
3 comments:
I've come back to this poem several times, and I think the best line in it is “My God!” I cry. It's the turning point when we make that decision to listen to God and believe Him rather than listening to the voices of the world. The more I read it, the more I see how it captures the essence of the psalms, and the more I like it.
Becky this poem is full of such emotion. Reminds me of some of my ponderings of late. I think I'll go read Psalm 3 & 4.
Susan
Thank you both. I really like writing poetry. It just takes a good bit of time and meditation to do it. But I get so much more from the Psalm when I do!
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