Lord, as I read your Word, humble me and show me your ways. Let your will be done that I may have Christ and see him on every page. That His righteousness, and not my own, is sought and received. Not of my merit but of His; given to me as a gift. Amen
For the Chief Musician; upon an eight-stringed lyre. A Psalm of David.
1 Help, Yahweh; for the godly man ceases. For the faithful fail from among the children of men. 2 Everyone lies to his neighbor. They speak with flattering lips, and with a double heart. 3 May Yahweh cut off all flattering lips, and the tongue that boasts, 4 who have said, “With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own. Who is lord over us?” 5 “Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says Yahweh; “I will set him in safety from those who malign him.” 6 Yahweh’s words are flawless words, as silver refined in a clay furnace, purified seven times. 7 You will keep them, Yahweh. You will preserve them from this generation forever. 8 The wicked walk on every side, when what is vile is exalted among the sons of men.
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