Psalm 9:9–20
9–10 God’s a safe-house for the battered,
a sanctuary during bad times.
The moment you arrive, you relax;
you’re never sorry you knocked.
11–12 Sing your songs to Zion-dwelling God,
tell his stories to everyone you meet:
yet keeps his eye on us,
registers every whimper and moan.
I’ve been kicked around long enough.
Once you’ve pulled me back
from the gates of death,
I’ll write the book on Hallelujahs;
on the corner of Main and First
I’ll hold a street meeting;
I’ll be the song leader; we’ll fill the air
with salvation songs.
15–16 They’re trapped, those godless countries,
in the very snares they set,
Their feet all tangled
in the net they spread.
the way God works is well-known.
The cunning machinery made by the wicked
has maimed their own hands.
17–20 The wicked bought a one-way
ticket to hell.
No longer will the poor be nameless—
no more humiliation for the humble.
Up, God! Aren’t you fed up with their empty strutting?
Expose these grand pretensions!
Show them how silly they look.