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Psalm 51–A Translation

It is because of your grace and mercy,349912651_955154c490

And the love you have put on display,

In the bosom of Christ, my sins, forever wiped away.

Because of Your Son, Tread me, O God, through and through and obliterate my stains.

Each moment of consciousness, you call out my secret name, whose purpose is to  bring glory and honor to your great fame.

A reflection of you, my purpose is to be, hidden in Christ, a life that is set free.  I am also reminded of my running from You; my incessant defection and choosing sides which bolster my own ego and satisfy even deeper lusts.  It seems the more distance I make, the more my feet cover with sores that fester and ooze.

Against You only, have I wandered away,

Placing lifeless and illusory idols before so Holy and gracious a God. Forgive me.

You speak and it is—justice, and Your judgment is perfect in every way, never failing to bring about good in what you have created.

From the moment of my birth, I was taught to hide from you; to cover over ancient guilt with leaves and skins.

The truth You give is never an outside in effort, it is always inside out process of transformation; it is wisdom, knowledge and joy that you reveal in the secret depths of humanity to ripen and bear fruit at a time you only know.

Remove without trace, the stains covering my face, and may the sounds I now hear resounding, be to me,  new joy and new grace.

My crushed body now rejoices, because of your mercy.

You look no more at my offenses and you cancel my debt.

Completely cut away my stony heart, and fashion it new with flesh.

It is in your presence that causes me to rest, so don’t give up on me, so that through Christ I can give you my best

May I know again what I have been saved from–and saved to–and keep my feet forward to walk on paths you have chosen for me to tread, and Lord continue my daily bread.

Deliver me from my bloodlust, for God you are mighty to save.

Give me breath to tell of Your glory, and put You on display.

You do not take pleasure in life-less displays, but broken hearts of surrender, are the perfect sacrifices of praise.

Repair my broken walls for your good pleasure, and on your Altar, I will put my surrendered life.

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