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〔大衛的詩,交與伶長。調用朝鹿。〕我的神,我的神!為甚麼離棄我?為甚麼遠離不救我?不聽我唉哼的言語? 1 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?
但你是聖潔的,是用以色列的讚美為寶座〔或譯:居所〕的。 3 Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the praise of Israel. 22:3 Or ((Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel))
我如水被倒出來;我的骨頭都脫了節;我心在我裏面如蠟鎔化。 14 I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted away within me.
我的精力枯乾,如同瓦片;我的舌頭貼在我牙床上。你將我安置在死地的塵土中。 15 My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me 22:15 Or (( I am laid)) in the dust of death.
犬類圍著我,惡黨環繞我;他們扎了我的手,我的腳。 16 Dogs have surrounded me; a band of evil men has encircled me, they have pierced 22:16 Some Hebrew manuscripts, Septuagint and Syriac; most Hebrew manuscripts (( like the lion,)) my hands and my feet.
你們敬畏耶和華的人要讚美他!雅各的後裔都要榮耀他!以色列的後裔都要懼怕他! 23 You who fear the LORD, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!
因為他沒有藐視憎惡受苦的人,也沒有向他掩面;那受苦之人呼籲的時候,他就垂聽。 24 For he has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.
我在大會中讚美你的話是從你而來的;我要在敬畏耶和華的人面前還我的願。 25 From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you 22:25 Hebrew ((him)) will I fulfill my vows.
地的四極都要想念耶和華,並且歸順他;列國的萬族都要在你面前敬拜。 27 All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him,
地上一切豐肥的人必吃喝而敬拜;凡下到塵土中─不能存活自己性命的人─都要在他面前下拜。 29 All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him-- those who cannot keep themselves alive.
April 17 "The hand of the Lord hath wrought this."(Job 12:9.) SEVERAL years ago there was found in an African mine the most magnificent diamond in the world's history. It was presented to the King of England to blaze in his crown of state. The King sent it to Amsterdam to be cut. It was put into the hands of an expert lapidary. And what do you suppose he did with it? He took the gem of priceless value, and cut a notch in it. Then he struck it a hard blow with his instrument, and lo! the superb jewel lay in his hand cleft in twain. What recklessness! What wastefulness! what criminal carelessness! Not so. For days and weeks that blow had been studied and planned. Drawings and models had been made of the gem. Its quality, its defects, its lines of cleavage had all been studied with minutest care. The man to whom it was committed was one of the most skillful lapidaries in the world. Do you say that blow was a mistake? Nay. It was the climax of the lapidary's skill. When he struck that blow, he did the one thing which would bring that gem to its most perfect shapeliness, radiance, and jewelled splendor. that blow which seemed to ruin the superb precious stone was, in fact, its perfect redemption. For, from those two halves were wrought the two magnificent gems which the skilled eye of the lapidary saw hidden in the rough, uncut stone as it came from the mine. So, sometimes, God lets a stinging blow fall upon your life. The blood spurts. The nerves wince. The soul cries out in agony. The blow seems to you an apalling mistake. But it is not, for you are the most priceless jewel in the world to God. And He is the most skilled lapidary in the universe. Some day you are to blaze in the diadem of the King. As you lie in His hand now He knows just how to deal with you. Not a blow will be permitted to fall upon your shrinking soul but that the love of God permits it, and works out from its depths, blessing and spiritual enrichment unseen, and unthought of by you. ─J. H. McC. In one of George MacDonald's books occurs this fragment of conversation: "I wonder why God made me," said Mrs. Faber bitterly. "I'm sure I don't know what was the use of making me!" "Perhaps not much yet," said Dorothy, "but then He hasn't done with you yet. He is making you now, and you are quarreling with the process." If men would but believe that they are in process of creation, and consent to be made─let the Maker handle them as the potter the clay, yielding themselves in resplendent motion and submissive, hopeful action with the turning of His wheel─they would ere long find themselves able to welcome every pressure of that hand on them, even when it was felt in pain; and sometimes not only to believe but to recognize the Divine end in view, the bringing of a son unto glory. "Not a single shaft can hit, Till the God of love sees fit."