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rheaitis · 5 years ago

Note

DVD commentary for matrvat?

The thing to know going into this story is that @parlegee is the absolute greatest for giving me open-ended prompts because I feel lost when there’s no prompt and sometimes constrained if it’s too specific, and there’s zero chance i’d have come up with this story in either case. Now, onwards.

---

Who is an opinionated teenager who can’t really allow adults their weaknesses? Krishna is!

“I thought he was a great king,” Krishna says disconsolately one morning as the sun drenches golden every wall of Rohini’s favourite room in Vasudev’s palace. The garden outside is fragrant with a dozen bushes of champaka flowers reaching for the light, and resounding with the laughing voices of Vrishni children and youths.

On such a day in Gokul, in Vrindavan, Krishna would be dancing through fields at the head of the pack, creating mischief and music in equal part. He used to come home along moonlit paths and worry Yashoda, whose heart was more tender than Rohini’s hard-shelled own.

In the ordered gardens of Mathura he skulks into the council-chambers of kings and nobles who have survived Kamsa’s scourge, and sulks in Rohini’s chambers.

If Krishna was even 10% less sunny than he is, he’d be in screaming fits the whole time. Rohini doesn’t really know it yet, but she’s aware of the general shape of it.

Rohini, who has missed Mathura’s high towers for longer than he has been alive, understands his longing only too well. Among the laughing children in the garden are the sons and daughters of women she befriended as a young bride, children who have never known her, who regard her sons with awed suspicion.

“King Ugrasena,” she asks now, careful to keep weariness from her voice. “He was, years ago when we were young and he was in his prime. But he had a grown son who kept him imprisoned, and deprived him of the joys of consorting with his grandchildren.”

He’s aware of the more visible wounds on the others, but he’s still. He’s sixteen; he’s a kid; and he hasn’t really learnt to accept that a lot of people just are weak.

“I meant my pitamaha King Shurasena,” Krishna says, and urgently adds, “I would not trivialise my matamaha’s suffering, or that of my parents, nor their resilience.”

I’m very proud of this association, ngl.

“No,” Rohini assures him. “I misspoke. You have been kind to them as to a day-old calf.”

That is praise he understands, and Krishna’s face blooms with joy. Her wild, wicked youngest. Her poor boy, whom they have transplanted into such strange soil.

“Will you say of pitamaha too, that he has suffered much, and is an aged man to whom I ought be kinder?”

He says it as though he knows the answer already, and comes quietly to sit at Rohini’s feet when she beckons him. If it is all so unfamiliar now to her, the floors of white stone, the fittings of brass, the plenitude of silver and gold, how much stranger must it be to him?

This is all canonical, btw, and I totally did a quick skim of Harivamsham for this fic, which may have been a bad idea, but anyway.

“We heard his praises, when I was a child,” she begins. “That he had been a great warrior in his youth, and was favoured by the gods. And it is true that he has had his own sorrows, with his queen dead from grief for your father, and with his eldest daughter sent to fill the nursery of a friend. Then too, without his son at home he gave your aunts in marriage to kingdoms that have not prized them as they ought be, and it is a great burden to any parent to know their children unhappy without hope of rescue or redressal.”

“However?” Krishna puts in, and grins wide and wicked. If she hadn’t known him since Yashoda brought him to her house to play with Balabhadra, she would think him sincere.

This is still going to take a very different strength.

Well, he has been battling monsters since he was a suckling babe.

“When I was a handful of months older than your brother is now, and there was first talk of me wedding your father, my uncle spoke to me of the household I was to enter. Your pitamaha is an amiable man, you’ve seen this already. He is chief among the Vrishni, who are not the most peaceful of the Yadavas. You are too clever, surely, to not know how a man of sweet temper might become chief of such rowdy princes?”

“He was the man all could agree upon,” Krishna says on a sigh, and she rewards him with a hand smoothing over his hair. He wears it still in a mass of curls barely restrained by a fillet, but it is of bronze silk now, and not the undyed ribbons he had used to steal from unwary girls. Good, he's learning; to take aught from a Vrishni girl unawares rarely bodes well.

The Vrishni and larger Yadava politics are fascinating, and also this is bb!Krishna’s first lesson in politics and manipulation.

“He was given to pleasing men and creating compromises that nobody else could. It is a necessary skill, and your father had it also. Perchance he still does.”

“Do you doubt it?”

IDK about Rohini’s mother, but mine firmly believes everyone has a quota in everything. Also I wanted to introduce her longing for her own parents early on, both for the parallel to Krishna’s longing for his childhood and also to balance out the payoff at the end of the story.

“My mother used to say when I had climbed too high in a tree or gorged myself on mangoes in summer heat, that we have a share in the world’s joys and might spend it too soon and find ourselves in sorrow’s shadow.” It is strange now to think of herself as a child, when her mother’s hair has turned grey, silver, white with age and yearning in distant Bahlika without Rohini around to care for her, when she had been given in marriage to Shurasena’s son because the Vrishni let their wives travel often and her mother could not bear to part from her for long. In the first five years of her marriage she had visited often, rarely in the seven unhappy years that followed, and never in the seventeen that have since lapsed.

“You’ve said it to us often enough,” Krishna points out, and when Rohini looks down she finds that he has turned his head under her hand and is fixing her with a stern eye. “Do you think it is the same for a skill?”

... not that Krishna is ever going to hit hard limits on his own capacity for anything, be it love or war or politics but the rest of us aren’t a shard/iteration of the God who Keeps.

“They tell me skill in war increases with every battle. I know little of war, and even your father never won Devaki with his own prowess. But a singer can sing herself hoarse, and a callous herder milk a cow dry. Your father kept himself alive while helpless, and kept your mother alive while she posed a great threat to your uncle, and he kept them together when solitude would have driven them wild.”

“You think him brave!”

And again, [wonder woman baby.gif] Krishna is going to become someone who understands bravery beyond the physical wonderfully well, and his Mom’s here to guide his first steps down that path.

He is so young, Krishna, for all his valour and all his wit. So young, even though it seems most days that he knows all the things there are to know, that they are alive only by his grace. But he is sixteen, scarcely, and she is near fifty years of age. He has hardly seen anything of the world.

“I think him clever,” Rohini says. “Valiant, too, but not in the way of warriors who gain great renown in battle. He crossed the Yamuna in full flood for you, dearest, and then returned to Kamsa’s prison where he saw every day for sixteen years the spot where six of his sons had had the life smeared from them.”

This is Krishna & Yudhishtira’s one great similarity, in my head: the wish for more brothers to hide behind. They deal with it differently, but it’s there for both.

“I might have had brothers,” he says, and flashes her an apologetic smile. “I know I have one, but even that knowledge is new to me. I never thought I could love him more dearly than I did all my life, but in this I am happy to be proven wrong. But I might have had more.”

All these lives gone to suit a fearful man’s cruel paranoia.

“Kirttimat would have been twenty-five,” Rohini says, more to herself than him. “We would have been hunting out a bride for him. Then Sushena and Udayin and Bhadrasena, what strength they would have lent us in council, perhaps in war if they more closely resembled your matamaha than your father. Rijudasa and Bhadradeha would have still been in the care of their preceptor, and Balarama preparing to take Rijudasa’s place. And then you, youngest and most indulged.”

... let’s not think about the knives in Yashoda’s heart right now.

“Aren’t I so still?” Krishna laughs, and she thinks that this would not fool anyone who knows it well, that it would knife through Yashoda’s tender heart were she to hear it.

Vrishnis gossip. It’s what they do.

“You are the jewel of Mathura, best-beloved of an entire city,” she assures him. If there are rumours, they will be quieted soon. Of course there are rumours. Rohini has not lived in the city in years, but she knows still too well how the bees buzz in their hives, how gossip sings through the streets on the fleet wings of the mynah.

“You might have had more sons as well,” Krishna says, as though he likes the thought of being rendered insignificant by a horde of elder siblings, of being safely the infant of the family instead of the lauded hero who has battled demons and killed grown men.

Look, I never said I was a nice person.

“I would have liked a daughter,” she tells him, trading truth for truth. In Vraj she had looked at lissome young Radha and thought, if only Vasudeva had given me a child the year we were first wed. She had delighted in Radha’s friendship with Krishna, her amused tolerance of the boy following her around and sharing her chores: rare forbearance from a woman fifteen years his senior but oh, understandable.

He got away with so so much. In the song listing out Krishna’s hundred and eight names it says, “Ayaan Ghosh dubbed him Rage Douser.” Ayaan Ghosh is Radha’s husband and Krishna’s uncle, and knows about their affair, fwiw.

How could anyone resist Krishna’s laughter and his tricks and his charm? Yashoda and Nanda had never disciplined him; Rohini herself, who could rain recriminations upon stolid Balarama while the sun ran from morning to noon, faltered before she could devise a punishment for Krishna.

“You might still,” Krishna offers. “I should like a sister.”

Older people falling in love again is My Fave. Look, I read R/S fic at a formative age.

“If the gods will it,” she says repressively, as much to ward off her own blushes as his impudence. She has missed love, and Vasudeva’s arms around her are still the best home she has had, even though they are grey, even though imprisonment has sapped his vitality.

Ohohoho, just you wait, Rohini, he’s going to find every use possible for it and then some.

“You missed him, all these years,” Krishna says, because he has always been far too perceptive. When he was a child he had mostly used the knowledge to ferret out butter and ghee that had been stored out of sight; what uses he will find for it in a squabbling nest of nobles hardly bears thinking of.

“I’ve known Vasudeva since I was a girl climbing into womanhood and he was a boy proud of his first beard who could persuade a roaring council-hall into acquiescence. We were wed for years before Sini won him your mother’s hand,” she tells him. “Of course I did. But I had Balabhadra, and I had a share in you, and I had my duty before me.”

“Duty,” Krishna says, desolate again, and younger in his silk and gold than she’s ever seen him in torn cotton and mud. “And now I must do mine, when so many have given their lives for mine.”

“So many have had their lives won by you,” Rohini corrects, and stoops to press a kiss into his curls.

Dearest and loveliest of boys.

He smiles up at her as she straightens, but it is still a wan little thing and melts her heart as none of his sulking ever has.

“Come,” she says, “you have months yet till you must go to your preceptor. It does you no good to intrude on your elders' councils.”

“What would you bid me do instead? I can hardly herd cattle in this fine city, and there seem no demons about for me to defeat.” He looks so quietly unhappy, her heroic son, her child who has lost the mother who raised him and cannot yet love the woman who bore him.

“You might have had more brothers if the gods had not wished them away,” she says instead of offering platitudes he would only despise, “and it is your right to mourn them. But you have cousins you might grow to love, who will be your allies as all of you grow to take your part in grihasthashram.”

He hones right in on his eventual favourites, but alas, there’s obstacles incoming.

“I thought they were in exile,” Krishna says, but now at last something is sparking to life behind his eyes. “My aunt Pritha and her children, I thought they were wandering in forests with King Pandu.”

Of course he thinks first of the ones deprived of their rightful homes, the ones who might be discomfited by palaces as he is himself.

“You have other aunts,” Rohini says in lieu of laughter. “Your pitamahi Bhojya had many children, and though King Shurasena was generous in giving them to such of his friends and cousins who—childless—were fated to roast in the hell, Puta, yet he kept his eldest son your father, and he kept his daughters Shrutadeva and Shrutashrava.”

“Their marriages are unhappy, you said.”

“And yet not childless,” Rohini says carefully. “Your aunt Shrutashrava has borne Prince Damaghosha of Chedi an heir, and I must visit if your mother cannot. We may travel without too large an escort of guards.”

“You would have me come with you?”

I just want to share the fact that family trees which start tracing lineages from the Sun and Moon still don’t show what family Rohini comes from and I had to read the Harivamsam to find out. I resent this fact.

“Only if you wish it as well. Then, too, Bahlika does not lie so very far from Chedi, and... Krishna, as you are in part my son, so too can I offer you a share in another matamaha and matamahi. My parents are old, and shall soon proceed into sannyasashram, but they are hale and they have always been happy. King Ugrasena is a great man, but...”

“Mother,” Krishna says, snatching up her hands and covering them with quick, fervent kisses. “You give me the sweetest gifts.”

#dvd commentary

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dfroza · 3 years ago

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Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for September 25 of 2021 with Proverbs 25 and Psalm 25, accompanied by Psalm 4 for the 4th day of Astronomical Autumn and Psalm 118 for day 268 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 25]

Solomon’s proverbs, published by the scribes of King Hezekiah:

God conceals the revelation of his word

in the hiding place of his glory.

But the honor of kings is revealed

by how they thoroughly search out

the deeper meaning of all that God says.

The heart of a king is full of understanding,

like the heavens are high and the ocean is deep.

If you burn away the impurities from silver,

a sterling vessel will emerge from the fire.

And if you purge corruption from the kingdom,

a king’s reign will be established in righteousness.

Don’t boast in the presence of a king

or promote yourself by taking a seat at the head table

and pretending that you’re someone important.

For it is better for the king to say to you,

“Come, you should sit at the head table,”

than for him to say in front of everyone,

“Please get up and move—

you’re sitting in the place of the prince.”

Don’t be hasty to file a lawsuit.

By starting something you wish you hadn’t,

you could be humiliated when you lose your case.

Don’t reveal another person’s secret

just to prove a point in an argument,

or you could be accused of being a gossip

and gain a reputation for being one

who betrays the confidence of a friend.

Winsome words spoken at just the right time

are as appealing as apples gilded in gold

surrounded with silver.

When you humbly receive wise correction,

it adorns your life with beauty

and makes you a better person.

A reliable, trustworthy messenger

refreshes the heart of his master,

like a gentle snowfall at harvest time.

Clouds that carry no water

and a wind that brings no refreshing rain—

that’s what you’re like when you boast

of a gift that you don’t have.

[Wisdom Practices Self-Control]

Use patience and kindness when you want to persuade leaders

and watch them change their minds right in front of you.

For your gentle wisdom will quell the strongest resistance.

When you discover something sweet,

don’t overindulge and eat more than you need,

for excess in anything can make you sick of even a good thing.

Don’t wear out your welcome

by staying too long at the home of your friends,

or they may get fed up with always having you there

and wish you hadn’t come.

Lying about and slandering people

are as bad as hitting them with a club,

or wounding them with an arrow,

or stabbing them with a sword.

You can’t depend on an unreliable person

when you really need help.

It can be compared to biting down on an abscessed tooth

or walking with a sprained ankle.

When you sing a song of joy to someone suffering

in the deepest grief and heartache,

it can be compared to disrobing in the middle of a blizzard

or rubbing salt in a wound.

Is your enemy hungry? Buy him lunch.

Win him over with your kindness.

Your surprising generosity will awaken his conscience

and God will reward you with favor.

As the north wind brings a storm,

saying things you shouldn’t brings a storm to any relationship.

It’s better to live all alone in a rundown shack

than to share a castle with a crabby spouse!

Like a drink of cool water refreshes a weary, thirsty soul,

so hearing good news revives the spirit.

When a lover of God gives in and compromises with wickedness,

it can be compared to contaminating a stream with sewage

or polluting a fountain.

It’s good to eat sweet things,

but you can take too much.

It’s good to be honored,

but to seek words of praise is not honor at all.

If you live without restraint

and are unable to control your temper,

you’re as helpless as a city with broken-down defenses,

open to attack.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 25 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 25]

A song of David.

ALWAYS I will lift up my soul to You, Eternal One,

BECAUSE You are my God and I put my trust in You.

Do not let me be humiliated.

Do not let my enemies celebrate at my expense.

CERTAINLY none of the people who rely on You will be shamed,

but those who are unfaithful, who intentionally deceive,

they are the ones who will be disgraced.

DEMONSTRATE Your ways, O Eternal One.

Teach me to understand so I can follow.

EASE me down the path of Your truth.

FEED me Your word

because You are the True God who has saved me.

I wait all day long, hoping, trusting in You.

GRACIOUS Eternal One, remember Your compassion; rekindle Your concern and love,

which have always been part of Your actions toward those who are Yours.

Do not HOLD against me the sins I committed when I was young;

instead, deal with me according to Your mercy and love.

Then Your goodness may be demonstrated in all the world, Eternal One.

IMMENSELY good and honorable is the Eternal;

that’s why He teaches sinners the way.

With JUSTICE, He directs the humble in all that is right,

and He shows them His way.

KIND and true are all the ways of the Eternal

to the people who keep His covenant and His words.

O LORD, the Eternal, bring glory to Your name,

and forgive my sins because they are beyond number.

MAY anyone who fears the Eternal

be shown the path he should choose.

His soul will NOT only live in goodness,

but his children will inherit the land.

ONLY those who stand in awe of the Eternal will have intimacy with Him,

and He will reveal His covenant to them.

PERPETUALLY my focus takes me to the Eternal

because He will set me free from the traps laid for me.

QUIETLY turn Your eyes to me and be compassionate toward me

because I am lonely and persecuted.

RAPIDLY my heart beats as troubles build on the horizon.

Come relieve me from these threats.

SEE my troubles and my misery,

and forgive all my sins.

TAKE notice of my enemies.

See how there are so many of them

who hate me and would seek my violent destruction.

Watch over my soul,

and let me face shame and defeat

UNASHAMED because You are my refuge.

May honor and strong character keep me safe.

VIGILANTLY I wait for You, hoping, trusting.

Save Israel from all its troubles,

O True God.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 25 (The Voice)

[Psalm 4]

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by strings.

Answer my prayers, O True God, the righteous, who makes me right.

I was hopelessly surrounded, and You rescued me.

Once again hear me; hide me in Your favor;

bring victory in defeat and hope in hopelessness.

How long will you sons of Adam steal my dignity, reduce my glory to shame?

Why pine for the fruitless and dream a delusion?

[pause]

Understand this: The Eternal One treats as special those like Him.

The Eternal will answer my prayers and save me.

Think long; think hard. When you are angry, don’t let it carry you into sin.

When night comes, in calm be silent.

[pause]

From this day forward, offer to God the right sacrifice from a heart made right by God.

Entrust yourself to the Eternal.

Crowds of disheartened people ask, “Who can show us what is good?”

Let Your brilliant face shine upon us, O Eternal One, that we may know the undeniable answer.

You have filled me with joy, and happiness has risen in my heart, great delight and unrivaled joy,

even more than when bread abounds and wine flows freely.

Tonight I will sleep securely on a bed of peace

because I trust You, You alone, O Eternal One, will keep me safe.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 4 (The Voice)

[Psalm 118]

Give thanks to the Eternal because He is always good.

He never ceases to be loving and kind.

Let the people of Israel proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

Let the priests of Aaron’s line proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

Let the people who fear the Eternal proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

When trouble surrounded me, I cried out to the Eternal;

He answered me and brought me to a wide, open space.

The Eternal is with me,

so I will not be afraid of anything.

If God is on my side, how can anyone hurt me?

The Eternal is on my side, a champion for my cause;

so when I look at those who hate me, victory will be in sight.

It is better to put your faith in the Eternal for your security

than to trust in people.

It is better to put your faith in Him for your security

than to trust in princes.

All these nations surround me, squeezing me from all sides;

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

They rose up against me, squeezed me from all sides, yes, from all sides;

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

They surrounded me like a swarm of bees;

they were destroyed quickly and thoroughly—

Flaring up like a pile of thorns—

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

I was pushed back, attacked so that I was about to fall,

but the Eternal was there to help me keep my balance.

He is my strength, and He is the reason I sing;

He has been there to save me in every situation.

In the tents of the righteous soldiers of God,

there are shouts of joy and victory. They sing:

“The right hand of the Eternal has shown His power.

The mighty arm of the Eternal is raised in victory;

the right hand of His has shown His power.”

I will not die. I will live.

I will live to tell about all the Eternal has done.

The Eternal has taught me many lessons;

He has been strict and severe,

but even in His discipline, He has not allowed me to die.

Open wide to me the gates of justice

so that I may walk through them

and offer praise and worship to the Eternal.

This is the gate of the Eternal;

the righteous children of God will go through it.

I will praise You because You answered me when I was in trouble.

You have become my salvation.

The stone that the builders rejected

has become the very stone that holds together the entire foundation.

This is the work of the Eternal,

and it is marvelous in our eyes.

This is the day the Eternal God has made;

let us celebrate and be happy today.

O Eternal One, save us, we beg You.

O Eternal One, we beg You, bring us success!

He who comes in the name of the Eternal will be blessed;

we have blessed You from the house of the Eternal.

The Eternal is the True God;

He shines His light on us.

Let the feast begin.

Bring the sacrifice, and tie it to the horns of the altar.

You are my God, and I give You thanks;

You are my God, and I praise You.

Give thanks to our Eternal Lord; He is always good.

He never ceases to be loving and kind.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 118 (The Voice)

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dfroza · 4 years ago

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Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for friday, march 26 of 2021 with Proverbs 26 and Psalm 26, accompanied by Psalm 7 for the 7th day of Spring and Psalm 85 for day 85 of the year

[Proverbs 26]

[Don’t Be a Fool]

It is totally out of place to promote and honor a fool,

just like it’s out of place to have snow in the summer

and rain at harvest time.

An undeserved curse will be powerless to harm you.

It may flutter over you like a bird,

but it will find no place to land.

Guide a horse with a whip,

direct a donkey with a bridle,

and lead a rebellious fool with a beating on his backside!

Don’t respond to the words of a fool with more foolish words,

or you will become as foolish as he is!

Instead, if you’re asked a silly question,

answer it with words of wisdom

so the fool doesn’t think he’s so clever.

If you choose a fool to represent you,

you’re asking for trouble.

It will be as bad for you as cutting off your own feet!

You can never trust the words of a fool,

just like a crippled man can’t trust his legs to support him.

Give honor to a fool and watch it backfire—

like a stone tied to a slingshot.

The statements of a fool will hurt others

like a thorn bush brandished by a drunk.

Like a reckless archer shooting arrows at random

is the impatient employer

who hires just any fool who comes along—

someone’s going to get hurt!

Fools are famous for repeating their errors,

like dogs are known to return to their vomit.

There’s only one thing worse than a fool,

and that’s the smug, conceited man

always in love with his own opinions.

[Don’t Be Lazy]

The lazy loafer says,

“I can’t go out and look for a job—

there may be a lion out there roaming wild in the streets!”

As a door is hinged to the wall,

so the lazy man keeps turning over, hinged to his bed!

There are some people so lazy

they won’t even work to feed themselves.

A self-righteous person is convinced he’s smarter

than seven wise counselors who tell him the truth.

It’s better to grab a stray dog by its ears

than to meddle in a quarrel

that’s none of your business.

[Watch Your Words]

The one who is caught lying to his friend,

who says, “I didn’t mean it, I was only joking,”

can be compared to a madman

randomly shooting off deadly weapons.

It takes fuel to have a fire—

a fire dies down when you run out of fuel.

So quarrels disappear when the gossip ends.

Add fuel to the fire and the blaze goes on.

So add an argumentative man to the mix,

and you’ll keep strife alive.

Gossip is so delicious, and how we love to swallow it!

For slander is easily absorbed into our innermost being.

Smooth talk can hide a corrupt heart

just like a pretty glaze covers a cheap clay pot.

Kind words can be a cover to conceal hatred of others,

for hypocrisy loves to hide behind flattery.

So don’t be drawn in by the hypocrite,

for his gracious speech is a charade,

nothing but a masquerade covering his hatred and evil on parade.

Don’t worry—he can’t keep the mask on for long.

One day his hypocrisy will be exposed before all the world.

Go ahead, set a trap for others—

and then watch as it snaps back on you!

Start a landslide and you’ll be the one who gets crushed.

Hatred is the root of slander

and insecurity the root of flattery.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 26 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 26]

A song of David.

Declare my innocence, O Eternal One!

I have walked blamelessly down this path.

I placed my trust in the Eternal and have yet to stumble.

Put me on trial and examine me, O Eternal One!

Search me through and through—from my deepest longings to every thought that crosses my mind.

Your unfailing love is always before me;

I have journeyed down Your path of truth.

My life is not wasted among liars;

my days are not spent among cheaters.

I despise every crowd intent on evil;

I do not commune with the wicked.

I wash my hands in the fountain of innocence

so that I might join the gathering that surrounds Your altar, O Eternal One.

From my soul, I will join the songs of thanksgiving;

I will sing and proclaim Your wonder and mystery.

Your house, home to Your glory, O Eternal One, radiates its light.

I am fixed on this place and long to be nowhere else.

When Your wrath pursues those who oppose You,

those swift to sin and thirsty for blood,

spare my soul and grant me life.

These men hold deceit in their left hands,

and in their right hands, bribery and lies.

But God, I have walked blamelessly down this path,

and this is my plea for redemption.

This is my cry for Your mercy.

Here I stand secure and confident

before all the people; I will praise the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 26 (The Voice)

[Psalm 7]

God! God! I am running to you for dear life;

the chase is wild.

If they catch me, I’m finished:

ripped to shreds by foes fierce as lions,

dragged into the forest and left

unlooked for, unremembered.

God, if I’ve done what they say—

betrayed my friends,

ripped off my enemies—

If my hands are really that dirty,

let them get me, walk all over me,

leave me flat on my face in the dirt.

Stand up, God; pit your holy fury

against my furious enemies.

Wake up, God. My accusers have packed

the courtroom; it’s judgment time.

Take your place on the bench, reach for your gavel,

throw out the false charges against me.

I’m ready, confident in your verdict:

“Innocent.”

Close the book on Evil, God,

but publish your mandate for us.

You get us ready for life:

you probe for our soft spots,

you knock off our rough edges.

And I’m feeling so fit, so safe:

made right, kept right.

God in solemn honor does things right,

but his nerves are sandpapered raw.

Nobody gets by with anything.

God is already in action—

Sword honed on his whetstone,

bow strung, arrow on the string,

Lethal weapons in hand,

each arrow a flaming missile.

Look at that guy!

He had sex with sin,

he’s pregnant with evil.

Oh, look! He’s having

the baby—a Lie-Baby!

See that man shoveling day after day,

digging, then concealing, his man-trap

down that lonely stretch of road?

Go back and look again—you’ll see him in it headfirst,

legs waving in the breeze.

That’s what happens:

mischief backfires;

violence boomerangs.

I’m thanking God, who makes things right.

I’m singing the fame of heaven-high God.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 7 (The Message)

[Psalm 85]

Mercy and Truth

For the Pure and Shining One

A prophetic song composed by the prophetic singers of Korah’s clan

Lord, your love has poured out

so many amazing blessings on our land!

You’ve restored Jacob’s destiny from captivity.

You’ve forgiven our many sins and covered

every one of them in your love.

Pause in his presence

So now it’s obvious that your blazing anger has ended and

the furious fire of wrath has been extinguished by your mercy.

So bring us back to loving you, God our Savior.

Restore our hearts so that we’ll never again

feel your anger rise against us.

Will you forever hold a grudge?

Will your anger endure for all time?

Revive us again, O God! I know you will! Give us a fresh start!

Then all your people will taste your joy and gladness.

Pour out even more of your love on us!

Reveal more of your kindness and restore us back to you!

Now I’ll listen carefully for your voice

and wait to hear whatever you say.

Let me hear your promise of peace—

the message every one of your godly lovers longs to hear.

Don’t let us in our ignorance turn back from following you.

For I know your power and presence shines on all your devoted lovers.

Your glory always hovers over all who bow low before you.

Your mercy and your truth have married each other.

Your righteousness and peace have kissed.

Flowers of your faithfulness are blooming on the earth.

Righteousness shines down from the sky.

Yes, the Lord keeps raining down blessing after blessing,

and prosperity will drench the land with a bountiful harvest.

For deliverance goes before him,

preparing a path for his steps.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 85 (The Passion Translation)

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dfroza · 5 years ago

Text

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Proverbs and Psalms

for Tuesday, may 26 of 2020 with Proverbs 26 and Psalm 26 accompanied by Psalm 69 for the 69th day of Spring and Psalm 147 for day 147 of the year

[Proverbs 26]

It is totally out of place to promote and honor a fool,

just like it’s out of place to have snow in the summer and rain at harvest time.

An undeserved curse will be powerless to harm you.

It may flutter over you like a bird, but it will find no place to land.

Guide a horse with a whip, direct a donkey with a bridle,

and lead a rebellious fool with a beating on his backside!

Don’t respond to the words of a fool with more foolish words,

or you will become as foolish as he is!

Instead, if you’re asked a silly question,

answer it with words of wisdom

so the fool doesn’t think he’s so clever.

If you choose a fool to represent you, you’re asking for trouble.

It will be as bad for you as cutting off your own feet!

You can never trust the words of a fool,

just like a crippled man can’t trust his legs to support him.

Give honor to a fool and watch it backfire—like a stone tied to a slingshot.

The statements of a fool will hurt others

like a thorn bush brandished by a drunk.

Like a reckless archer shooting arrows at random is the impatient employer

who hires just any fool who comes along—someone’s going to get hurt!

Fools are famous for repeating their errors,

like dogs are known to return to their vomit.

There’s only one thing worse than a fool,

and that’s the smug, conceited man

always in love with his own opinions.

The lazy loafer says,

“I can’t go out and look for a job—

there may be a lion out there roaming wild in the streets!”

As a door is hinged to the wall,

so the lazy man keeps turning over, hinged to his bed!

There are some people so lazy

they won’t even work to feed themselves.

A self-righteous person is convinced he’s smarter

than seven wise counselors who tell him the truth.

It’s better to grab a mad dog by its ears

than to meddle and interfere in a quarrel

that’s none of your business.

[Watch Your Words]

The one who is caught lying to his friend

and says, “I didn’t mean it, I was only joking,”

can be compared to a madman

randomly shooting off deadly weapons.

It takes fuel to have a fire—

a fire dies down when you run out of fuel.

So quarrels disappear when the gossip ends.

Add fuel to the fire and the blaze goes on.

So add an argumentative man to the mix

and you’ll keep strife alive.

Gossip is so delicious, and how we love to swallow it!

For slander is easily absorbed into our innermost being.

Smooth talk can hide a corrupt heart

just like a pretty glaze covers a cheap clay pot.

Kind words can be a cover to conceal hatred of others,

for hypocrisy loves to hide behind flattery.

So don’t be drawn in by the hypocrite,

for his gracious speech is a charade,

nothing but a masquerade covering his hatred and evil on parade.

Don’t worry—he can’t keep the mask on for long.

One day his hypocrisy will be exposed before all the world.

Go ahead, set a trap for others—

and then watch as it snaps back on you!

Start a landslide and you’ll be the one who gets crushed.

Hatred is the root of slander

and insecurity the root of flattery.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 26 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 26]

Declare Me Innocent

King David’s poetic praise to God

You be my judge and declare me innocent!

Clear my name, for I have tried my best to keep your laws

and to trust you without wavering.

Lord, you can scrutinize me.

Refine my heart and probe my every thought.

Put me to the test and you’ll find it’s true.

I will never lose sight of your love for me.

Your faithfulness has steadied my steps.

I won’t keep company with tricky, two-faced men,

nor will I go the way of those who defraud with hidden motives.

I despise the sinner’s hangouts, refusing to even enter them.

You won’t find me walking among the wicked.

When I come before you, I’ll come clean,

approaching your altar with songs of thanksgiving,

singing the songs of your mighty miracles.

Lord, I love your home, this place of dazzling glory,

bathed in the splendor and light of your presence!

Don’t treat me as one of these scheming sinners

who plot violence against the innocent.

Look how they devise their wicked plans,

holding the innocent hostage for ransom.

I’m not like them, Lord—not at all.

Save me, redeem me with your mercy,

for I have chosen to walk only in what is right.

I will proclaim it publicly in every congregation,

and because of you, Lord,

I will take my stand on righteousness alone!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 26 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 69]

A Cry of Distress

To the Pure and Shining One

David’s poetic song of praise to the tune of “Lilies”

God, my God, come and save me!

These floods of trouble have risen higher and higher.

The water is up to my neck!

I’m sinking into the mud with no place to stand,

and I’m about to drown in this storm.

I’m weary, exhausted with weeping.

My throat is dry, my voice is gone, my eyes are swollen with sorrow,

and I’m waiting for you, God, to come through for me.

I can’t even count all those who hate me for no reason.

Many influential men want me silenced,

yet I’ve done nothing against them.

Must I restore what I never took away?

God, my life is an open book to you.

You know every sin I’ve ever done.

For nothing within me is hidden from your sight!

Lord Yahweh of Angel Armies,

keep me from ever being a stumbling block to others,

to those who love you.

Lord God of Israel, don’t let what happens to me

be the source of confusion to those who are passionate for you.

Because of my love for you, Lord,

I have been mocked, cursed, and disgraced.

Even my own brothers, those of my family,

act as though they don’t want anything to do with me.

My love for you has my heart on fire!

My passion consumes me for your house!

Nothing will turn me away,

even though I endure all the insults of those who insult you.

When they see me seeking for more of you with weeping and fasting,

they all just scoff and scorn at my passion.

When I humble myself with sorrow over my sin,

it gives them a reason to mock me even more.

The leaders, the influential ones—how they scorn my passion for you!

I’ve become the talk of the town, the theme of drunkards’ songs.

But I keep calling out to you, Yahweh!

I know you will bend down to listen to me,

for now is the season of favor.

Because of your faithful love for me,

your answer to my prayer will be my sure salvation.

Pull me out of this mess! Don’t let me sink!

Rescue me from those who hate me and from all this trouble I’m in!

Don’t let this flood drown me.

Save me from these deep waters

or I’ll go down to the pit of destruction.

Oh, Lord God, answer my prayers!

I need to see your tender kindness, your grace,

your compassion, and your constant love.

Just let me see your face, and turn your heart toward me.

Come running quickly to your servant.

In this deep distress, come and answer my prayer.

Come closer as a friend and redeem me.

Set me free so my enemies cannot say that you are powerless.

See how they dishonor me in shame and disgrace?

You know, Lord, what I’m going through, and you see it all.

I’m heartsick and heartbroken by it all.

Their contempt has crushed my soul.

I looked for sympathy and compassion

but found only empty stares.

I was hungry and they gave me bitter food.

I was thirsty and they offered me vinegar.

Let their “feasts” turn to ashes.

Let their “peace and security” become their downfall.

Make them blind as bats, groping in the dark.

Let them be feeble, trembling continually.

Pour out your fury on them all!

Consume them with the fire of your anger!

Burn down the walled palace where they live!

Leave them homeless and desolate!

For they come against the one you yourself have struck,

and they scorn the pain of those you’ve pierced.

Pile on them the guilt of their sins.

Don’t let them ever go free.

Leave them out of your list of the living!

Blot them out of your book of life!

Never name them as your own!

I am burdened and broken by this pain.

When your miracle rescue comes to me,

it will lift me to the highest place.

Then my song will be a burst of praise to you.

My glory-shouts will make your fame even more glorious

to all who hear my praises!

For I know, Yahweh, that my praises mean more to you

than all my gifts and sacrifices.

All who seek you will see God do this for them,

and they’ll overflow with gladness.

Let this revive your hearts, all you lovers of God!

For Yahweh does listen to the poor and needy

and will not abandon his prisoners of love.

Let all the universe praise him!

The high heavens and everyone on earth, praise him!

Let the oceans deep, with everything in them, keep it up!

God will come to save his Zion-people.

God will build up his cities of Judah,

for there his people will live in peace.

All their children will inherit the land,

and the lovers of his name will live there safe and secure.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 69 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 147]

Our Amazing God

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!

How beautiful it is when we sing our praises to the beautiful God,

for praise makes you lovely before him

and brings him great delight!

The Lord builds up Jerusalem;

he gathers up the outcasts and brings them home.

He heals the wounds of every shattered heart.

He sets his stars in place, calling them all by their names.

How great is our God!

There’s absolutely nothing his power cannot accomplish,

and he has infinite understanding of everything.

God supports and strengthens the humble,

but the ungodly will be brought down to the dust.

Sing out with songs of thanksgiving to the Lord!

Let’s sing our praises with melodies overflowing!

He fills the sky with clouds, sending showers to water the earth

so that the grass springs up on the mountain fields

and the earth produces food for man.

All the birds and beasts who cry with hunger to him

are fed from his hands.

His people don’t find security in strong horses,

for horsepower is nothing to him.

Man power is even less impressive!

The Lord shows favor to those who fear him,

to his godly lovers who wait for his tender embrace.

Jerusalem, praise the Lord! Zion, worship your God!

For he has strengthened the authority of your gates.

He even blesses you with more children.

He’s the one who brings peace to your borders,

feeding you the most excellent of fare.

He sends out his orders throughout the world;

his words run as swift messengers, bringing them to pass.

He blankets the earth with glistening snow,

painting the landscape with frost.

Sleet and hail fall from the sky,

causing waters to freeze before winter’s icy blast.

Then he speaks his word and it all melts away;

as the warm spring winds blow, the streams begin to flow.

In the same way, he speaks his word to Jacob,

and to Israel he brings his life-giving instruction.

He has dealt with Israel differently than with any other people,

for they have received his laws.

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 147 (The Passion Translation)

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