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好像火燒乾柴,又像火將水燒開,使你敵人知道你的名,使列國在你面前發顫! 2 As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you!
從古以來,人未曾聽見、未曾耳聞、未曾眼見在你以外有甚麼神為等候他的人行事。 4 Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.
你迎接那歡喜行義、記念你道的人;你曾發怒,我們仍犯罪;這景況已久,我們還能得救嗎? 5 You come to the help of those who gladly do right, who remember your ways. But when we continued to sin against them, you were angry. How then can we be saved?
我們都像不潔淨的人;所有的義都像污穢的衣服。我們都像葉子漸漸枯乾;我們的罪孽好像風把我們吹去。 6 All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
並且無人求告你的名;無人奮力抓住你。原來你掩面不顧我們,使我們因罪孽消化。 7 No one calls on your name or strives to lay hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us and made us waste away because of our sins.
耶和華啊,求你不要大發震怒,也不要永遠記念罪孽。求你垂顧我們,我們都是你的百姓。 9 Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD; do not remember our sins forever. Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are all your people.
我們聖潔華美的殿─就是我們列祖讚美你的所在被火焚燒;我們所羨慕的美地盡都荒廢。 11 Our holy and glorious temple, where our fathers praised you, has been burned with fire, and all that we treasured lies in ruins.
July 3 "Doth the plowman plow all day to sow? (Isa. 28:24.) OE day in early summer I walked past a beautiful mead own. The grass was as soft and thick and fine as an immense green Oriental rug. In one corner stood a fine old tree, a sanctuary for numberless wild birds; the crisp, sweet air was full of their happy songs. Two cows lay in the shade, the very picture of content. Down by the roadside the saucy dandelion mingled his gold with the royal purple of the wild violet. I leaned against the fence for a long time, feasting my hungry eyes, and thinking in my soul that God never made a fairer spot than my lovely meadow. The next day I passed that way again, and lo! the hand of the despoiler had been there. A plowman and his great plow, now standing idle in the furrow, had in a day wrought a terrible havoc. Instead of the green grass there was turned up to view the ugly, bare, brown earth; instead of the singing birds there were only a few hens industriously scratching for worms. Gone were the dandelion and the pretty violet. I said in my grief, "How could any one spoil a thing so fair?" Then my eyes were opened by some unseen hand, and I saw a vision, a vision of a field of ripe corn ready for the harvest. I could see the giant, heavily laden stalks in the autumn sun; I could almost hear the music of the wind as it would sweep across the golden tassels. And before I was aware, the brown earth took on a splendor it had not had the day before. Oh, that we might always catch the vision of an abundant harvest, when the great Master Plowman comes, as He often does, and furrows through our very souls, uprooting and turning under that which we thought most fair, and leaving for our torturer gaze only the bare and the unbeautiful. ─Selected. Why should I start at the plough of my Lord, that maketh the deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop. ─Samuel Reutherford.