Psalm 78:42–55

How quickly they forgot what he’d done,

forgot their day of rescue from the enemy,

When he did miracles in Egypt,

wonders on the plain of Zoan.

He turned the River and its streams to blood—

not a drop of water fit to drink.

He sent flies, which ate them alive,

and frogs, which bedeviled them.

He turned their harvest over to caterpillars,

everything they had worked for to the locusts.

He flattened their grapevines with hail;

a killing frost ruined their orchards.

He pounded their cattle with hail,

let thunderbolts loose on their herds.

His anger flared,

a wild firestorm of havoc,

An advance guard of disease-carrying angels

to clear the ground, preparing the way before him.

He didn’t spare those people,

he let the plague rage through their lives.

He killed all the Egyptian firstborns,

lusty infants, offspring of Ham’s virility.

Then he led his people out like sheep,

took his flock safely through the wilderness.

He took good care of them; they had nothing to fear.

The Sea took care of their enemies for good.

He brought them into his holy land,

this mountain he claimed for his own.

He scattered everyone who got in their way;

he staked out an inheritance for them—

the tribes of Israel all had their own places.