I have forgotten what happiness is;
I tell myself my future is lost,
all that I hoped for from the Lord.
The thought of my homeless poverty
is wormwood and gall;
Remembering it over and over
leaves my soul downcast within me.
But I will call this to mind,
as my reason to have hope:
The favors of the Lord are not exhausted,
his mercies are not spent;
They are renewed each morning,
so great is his faithfulness.
My portion is the Lord says my soul;
therefore I will hope in Him.
Good is the Lord to one who waits for Him,
to the soul that seeks Him;
It is good to hope in silence
for the saving help of the Lord."
Hugs.
ReplyDeleteI was listening to Erik Whitaker's "When David Heard" and thinking about you. I wish I could have seen you at my parents' house the other week. Aure entuluva.
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