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耶和華啊,你是我的神;我要尊崇你,我要稱讚你的名。因為你以忠信誠實行過奇妙的事,成就你古時所定的。 1 O LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago.
你使城變為亂堆,使堅固城變為荒場,使外邦人宮殿的城不再為城,永遠不再建造。 2 You have made the city a heap of rubble, the fortified town a ruin, the foreigners' stronghold a city no more; it will never be rebuilt.
因為當強暴人催逼人的時候,如同暴風直吹牆壁,你就作貧窮人的保障,作困乏人急難中的保障,作躲暴風之處,作避炎熱的陰涼。 4 You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat. For the breath of the ruthless is like a storm driving against a wall
你要壓制外邦人的喧嘩,好像乾燥地的熱氣下落;禁止強暴人的凱歌,好像熱氣被雲影消化。 5 and like the heat of the desert. You silence the uproar of foreigners; as heat is reduced by the shadow of a cloud, so the song of the ruthless is stilled.
在這山上,萬軍之耶和華必為萬民用肥甘設擺筵席,用陳酒和滿髓的肥甘,並澄清的陳酒,設擺筵席。 6 On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine-- the best of meats and the finest of wines.
他已經吞滅死亡直到永遠。主耶和華必擦去各人臉上的眼淚,又除掉普天下他百姓的羞辱,因為這是耶和華說的。 8 he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth. r The LORD has spoken.
到那日,人必說:「看哪,這是我們的神;我們素來等候他,他必拯救我們。這是耶和華,我們素來等候他,我們必因他的救恩歡喜快樂。」 9 In that day they will say, 「Surely this is our God; we trusted in him, and he saved us. This is the LORD, we trusted in him; let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.」
耶和華的手必按在這山上;摩押人在所居之地必被踐踏,好像乾草被踐踏在糞池的水中。 10 The hand of the LORD will rest on this mountain; but Moab will be trampled under him as straw is trampled down in the manure.
他必在其中伸開手,好像洑水的伸開手洑水一樣;但耶和華必使他的驕傲和他手所行的詭計一併敗落。 11 They will spread out their hands in it, as a swimmer spreads out his hands to swim. God will bring down their pride despite the cleverness 25:11 The meaning of the Hebrew for this word is uncertain. of their hands.
June 15 "For God hath made me fruitful in the land of my affliction." (Gen. 41:52.) THE summer showers are falling. The poet stands by the window watching them. They are beating and buffeting the earth with their fierce downpour. But the poet sees in his imaginings more than the showers which are falling before his eyes. He sees myriads of lovely flowers which shall be soon breaking forth from the watered earth, filling it with matchless beauty and fragrance. And so he sings: "It isn't raining rain for me, it's raining daffodils; In every dimpling drop I see wild flowers upon the hills. A cloud of gray engulfs the day, and overwhelms the town; It isn't raining rain for me: it's raining roses down." Perchance some one of God's chastened children is even now saying, "O God, it is raining hard for me tonight. "Testings are raining upon me which seem beyond my power to endure. Disappointments are raining fast, to the utter defeat of all my chosen plans. Bereavements are raining into my life which are making my shrinking heart quiver in its intensity of suffering. The rain of affliction is surely beating down upon my soul these days." Withal, friend, you are mistaken. It isn't raining rain for you. It's raining blessing. for, if you will but believe your Father's Word, under that beating rain are springing up spiritual flowers of such fragrance and beauty as never before grew in that stormless, unchastened life of yours. You indeed see the rain. But do you see also the flowers? You are pained by the testings. But God sees the sweet flower of faith which is upspringing in your life under those very trials. You shrink from the suffering. But God sees the tender compassion for other sufferers which is finding birth in your soul. Your heart winces under the sore bereavement. But God sees the deepening and enriching which that sorrow has brought to you. It isn't raining afflictions for you. It is raining tenderness, love, compassion, patience, and a thousand other flowers and fruits of the blessed Spirit, which are bringing into your life such a spiritual enrichment as all the fullness of worldly prosperity and ease was never able to beget in your innermost soul. ─J. M. McC. SONGS ACROSS THE STORM "A harp stood in the moveless air, Where showers of sunshine washed a thousand fragrant blooms; A traveler bowed with loads of care, Essayed from morning till the dusk of evening gloom. To thrum sweet sounds from the songless strings; The pilgrim strives in vain with each unanswering chord, Until the tempest's thunder sings, And, moving on the storm, the fingers of the Lord A wondrous melody awakes; And though the battling winds their soldier deeds perform, Their trumpet-sound brave music makes, While God's assuring voice sings love across the storm."