Arise my child... (Psalm 3)

O Lord, how my enemies have grown!
So many are rising up against me.
 
Yes Lord. My sin has grown. My life passes me by. The days mount up and I see death at the coming. It is inevitable. It stares me in the face and frightens me to the point of trembling.

Many are saying of my soul,
“God will not save him.”
 
What’s worse, My God, is that I have no one to speak to me of Your grace, Your mercy, Your deliverance. All around me is vain labor. All around me is pious glory. All around me is this trudging towards some peak, some mountaintop, that seems to ever grow. That climbs to the sky, and I hate heights.

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But You, O Lord, are a shield about me,
 
You are My God; the One who has told me that You are truly my Protector. You have told me that there are no others for me. Only You.

My glory, and the One who lifts up my head.
 
When I fall down, when I stumble in my transgressions, and allow my faith to fail, You lift me up. You raise my head to look to You.

I was crying to the Lord with my voice,
And He answered me from His holy mountain.
 
All this weeping, all this despair, has reached Your ears. It has been answered by Your Holy Mountain. That Mount Calvary. That Golgotha. That place of death that has brought life.

I laid down and slept;
I awoke, for the Lord sustains me.
 
Even in death, in mortality, it is You who resurrects the dead. You who speak the words – Arise My son, and walk; be well and come home.

I will not be afraid of tens of thousands of people
Who have set themselves to surround me.
 
Your resurrection and your promises are what give me boldness. The redemption bought in blood is what removes my fear of all that might assail me.
 
Arise, O Lord; save me, O my God!
 
Get up my God and speak these words again. Send forth your salvation that kills my sin. The power that overcomes my strength with weakness.

For You have struck all my enemies on the cheek;
You have shattered the teeth of the wicked.


The disgrace of my sin is not mine anymore, but yours. You who have taken it as your own to make me your own. You shame it with fear and snuff it out with the power of your arm.

Salvation belongs to the Lord;
Your blessing be upon Your people!
 
All of it is Yours my Lord. None of this work is mine. Send forth this same blessing of saving grace again, and again, and again upon your people. You are our Rock, our Fortress, our Peace.
TW