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〔非利士人在迦特拿住大衛。那時,他作這金詩,交與伶長。調用遠方無聲鴿。〕神啊,求你憐憫我,因為人要把我吞了,終日攻擊欺壓我。 1 Be merciful to me, O God, for men hotly pursue me; all day long they press their attack.
我幾次流離,你都記數;求你把我眼淚裝在你的皮袋裏。這不都記在你冊子上嗎? 8 Record my lament; list my tears on your scroll-- 56:8 Or ((put my tears in your wineskin)) are they not in your record?
因為你救我的命脫離死亡。你豈不是救護我的腳不跌倒、使我在生命光中行在神面前嗎? 13 For you have delivered me 56:13 Or ((my soul)) from death and my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before God in the light of life. 56:13 Or ((the land of the living))
April 22 "He knoweth the way that I take." (Job. 23:10.) BELIEVER! What a glorious assurance! This way of thine─this, it may be, a crooked, mysterious, tangled way─ this way of trial and tears. "He knoweth it." The furnace seven times heated─He lighted it. There is an Almighty Guide knowing and directing our foot-steps, whether it be to the bitter Marah pool, or to the joy and refreshment of Elim. That way, dark to the Egyptians, has its pillar of cloud and fire for His own Israel. The furnace is hot; but not only can we trust the hand that kindles it, but we have the assurance that the fires are lighted not to consume, but to refine; and that when the refining process is completed (no sooner─no later) He brings His people forth as gold. When they think Him least near, He is often nearest. "When my spirit was overwhelmed, then thou knewest my path." Do we know of One brighter than the brightest radiance of the visible sun, visiting our chamber with the first waking beam of the morning; an eye of infinite tenderness and compassion following us throughout the day, knowing the way that we take? The world, in its cold vocabulary in the hour of adversity, speaks of "Providence"─ "the will of Providence."─the strokes of providence" what is that? Why dethrone a living, directing God from the sovereignty of His own earth? Why substitute an inanimate, death-like abstraction, in place of an acting, controlling, personal Jehovah? How it would take the sting from many a goading trial, to see what Job saw (in his hour of aggravated woe, when every earthly hope lay prostrate at his feet)─no hand but the Divine. He saw that hand behind the gleaming swords of the Sabeans─he saw it behind the lightning flash─he saw it giving wings to the careening tempest─he saw it in the awful silence of his rifled home. "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the lord!" Thus seeing God in everything, his faith reached its climax when this once powerful prince of the desert, seated on his bed of ashes, could say, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust him." ─Macduff.