From thirsty, parched soul
To bubbling fountain
Christ makes you the miracle
From thirsty, parched soul
Jesus gives the order
Servants do what servants do
Water becomes wine
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.
Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.
For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether.
Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.
O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me.
This year in school, my students and I are memorizing Psalm 139 and Romans 6-8. In September, as we were studying through Psalm 139, the full meanings behind the Hebrew words struck me with such lovely force that I decided to try my hand at paraphrasing the psalm, attempting to communicate some of the full color that the words themselves express. By the time I’d made it through the first 6 verses, I’d found myself with two hand-written pages of something more poetic than prose but more prosy than even my typical poems are. I had to laugh at the way it takes me so many many words to communicate the full–wait, not even the full thought of what God expressed in 6 short and deceptively simple verses.
The month of February at my church is a month of reviewing verses that we have memorized over the years, so it is more than fitting (not that I need an excuse) to post this reflection on one of the passages that I partly memorized as a young girl, have now completely memorized, and have found comforting and astonishing at many and various times through my life.
Let me encourage you to read the psalm if you have not–and to read it again if you have–and to ponder with me God’s intimate knowledge and intricate creation of each individual person . . . of me . . . of you.
Psalm 139 (Blue Letter Bible)
p.s. If you click on the “C” beside each verse on BLB, it will bring up the verse with the Hebrew words for each phrase. Click on the numbers in the column marked “Strong’s” to go to a page that gives the meaning of and detailed information on the word itself.
Grace and comfort
To the sorrowful sinner:
Hello, my dear readers =)
A recent discussion with a friend over one of the stanzas in my recent poem “Hard” gave me this idea =) Our discussion reminded me a little of the exercise we did on my blog a few years ago with John Donne’s poem “Death Be Not Proud”–you can read those paraphrases in this post: Trash Talking Death (be sure to look in the comments!).
I thought it might be fun to do it again, so . . .
If you have the time, would you choose a stanza of ”Hard” to either rework or to put into your own words?
You don’t have to try to make it “poetic” if you don’t want to; prose would be just as fun as poetry! Just share your version of these thoughts–or even your own examples of the thoughts I shared.
You can post your version in the comments for this post. Please be sure to include the stanza number!
Thank you! =) *eager smile*
Broken wounded hearts
Stars seemingly numberless
He knows all their names