(Worship leader: A David psalm.)
I’m not silent in my praise, God.
Please don’t be silent to my prayers.
One thing’s for certain:
Those with twisted hearts
And twisted words
Are not silent when accusing me.
Their lies are piled mountain high.
I’m surrounded by a pack of wolves,
Snarling their hate from every direction.
And I can’t figure out why.
I gave them love.
They give me hostility.
And so I give you my prayers.
In exchange for my good on their behalf,
They try to destroy me.
I love.
They hate.
Sorry for this vomit of a prayer,
But here goes:
Put a murderous psychopath on his trail.
Put him on trial
With a vicious prosecutor pressing the case.
When the verdict comes in,
Let him be found guilty on all charges.
When he prays to you,
Treat it as just another sin on his long list.
Let him die young.
Give his job to a rival.
Make his kids orphans.
Make his wife a widow.
Make his kids homeless beggars.
Make them have to steal their food.
Make his loans default
And everything he has be taken in bankruptcy.
If anything is left,
Let it be sold at garage sales to picky bargain hunters
Who pay only pennies.
May everyone turn their back on him
When he needs them most.
Don’t let anyone give even the most basic aid
To his sickly orphan kids.
And let them die without having kids of their own
So that in a generation,
The whole family is wiped
From the face of the earth.
Let the only memory of him, Yahweh,
Be the memory of his father’s sins
And his mother’s shameful behavior.
Keep those sins
Firmly in the front of your mind, Yahweh.
But in every other way,
Obliterate the memory of him completely.
He never remembered
To do a simple kindness.
He trampled everyone who got in his way,
Especially the poor and vulnerable.
Show him a weakness
And he’d exploit you to your death.
He was a living curse,
Gleefully using every word to tear down
Instead of build up.
Kind words were a foreign language to him.
When he got dressed every morning,
He clothed himself with curses.
He drank curses like fine wine.
He ate curses like a savory meal.
So, clothe him with curses —
Grave clothes.
OK, I know I’ve said too much, Yahweh.
But this is how hurt my heart is,
How much I want you to hurt back
Those who are out to get me.
Put your reputation on the line
For me, Yahweh my Lord.
Out of your loyal love,
Rescue me.
I’m barely holding it together.
My heart is wrecked within me.
There’s not much left to me.
You could blow me over with a breath.
I’m weak-kneed from loss of appetite,
Gaunt,
Thin as a rail.
I’m the punchline to their cruel jokes.
When I’m with them,
I can see the laughter in their eyes.
My God!
Yahweh!
I need your help.
Unleash your loyal love
To save me.
And do it in such a way
That everyone knows it’s your doing.
Leave no questions, Yahweh.
They can curse all they want,
You’re in the blessing business, Yahweh.
Let their shame be evident to all,
But give me reason to rejoice.
They will clothe themselves with chaos,
Wrapped in a shawl of shame.
But the words that leave my lips
Will all be the same:
“Thank you! Thank you, Yahweh!”
I’ll throw a party
Just so I can praise you.
Because everyone whose lives are falling apart
Doesn’t need to look far to find you.
You’re right there,
Ready to rescue
From those who would condemn our souls
To death.