Habakkuk’s Prayer

1 A prayer of Habakkuk, the prophet:

2 Lord, I have heard of your fame.
I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord.
Renew your works in these years.
In these years make it known.
But in wrath, remember mercy.
3 The Lord came from Teman,
the Holy One from Mount Paran.

Selah.

His glory covered the heavens,
and his praise filled the earth.
4 His splendor is like the sunrise.
Rays shine from his hand
where his power is hidden.
5 Plague went before him,
and pestilence followed his feet.
6 He stood, and the earth shook.
He looked, and the nations trembled.
The ancient mountains crumbled.
The age-old hills collapsed.
And his ways are eternal.
7 I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction.
The dwellings of the land of Midian trembled.
8 Was the Lord displeased with the rivers?
Was your anger against the rivers,
or your wrath against the sea,
that you rode on your horses,
on your chariots of salvation?
9 You uncovered your bow.
You called for many arrows.

Selah.

You split the earth with rivers.
10 The mountains saw you, and were afraid.
The raging waters passed by.
The deep roared and lifted up its hands on high.
11 The sun and moon stood still in the sky.
At the light of your arrows as they went,
at the sparkle of your glittering spear.
12 You marched through the land in wrath.
You threshed the nations in anger.
13 You went out for the salvation of your people,
for the salvation of your anointed.
You crushed the head of the land of wickedness.
You stripped them head to foot.

Selah.

14 You pierced the heads of his warriors with their own spears.
They came like a whirlwind to scatter us,
gloating as if to devour the poor in secret.
15 You trampled the sea with your horses,
churning mighty waters.
16 When I heard the sound, I trembled,
and my lips quivered.
Rot enters into my bones, and I tremble in my place,
because I must wait quietly for the day of trouble,
for the coming of the people who invade us.

Habakkuk Rejoices

17 Though the fig tree does not bud,
and no fruit is on the vine;
though the olive crop fails,
and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold,
and there are no cattle in the stalls;
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord.
I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!
19 God, the Lord, is my strength.
He makes my feet like the deer’s,
and enables me to stand in high places.

For the music director, on my stringed instruments.

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