The Lantern

Habakkuk3

Habakkuk’s Prayer

A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, on Shigionoth.

LORD, I have heard your report; I am afraid. LORD, your work — in the midst of the years revive it, in the midst of the years make it known; in trembling remember compassion.

God comes from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah. His majesty covered the heavens, and his praise filled the earth.

And the brightness is like the light; rays are from his hand, and there is the hiding of his strength.

Before him goes pestilence, and plague goes out at his feet.

He stood and measured the earth; he looked and startled nations. And the mountains of old were shattered; the hills of eternity bowed down. The goings of eternity are his.

Under iniquity I saw the tents of Cushan; the curtains of the land of Midian tremble.

Was the LORD angry against the rivers? Was your anger against the rivers, or your fury against the sea, that you rode on your horses, your chariots of salvation?

Your bow is laid utterly bare; the oaths of the tribes are the word. Selah. With rivers you split the earth.

The mountains saw you and writhed; a downpour of water passed over. The deep gave its voice; it lifted its hands on high.

Sun and moon stood in their lofty dwelling; at the light of your arrows they went, at the brightness of the lightning of your spear.

In indignation you march the earth; in anger you thresh nations.

You went out for the salvation of your people, for the salvation of your anointed. You shattered the head from the house of the wicked, laying bare the foundation to the neck. Selah.

You pierced with his own staffs the head of his villagers; they storm out to scatter me, their exulting as if to devour the afflicted in a hiding place.

You trod the sea with your horses, the heap of many waters.

I heard, and my belly trembled; at the sound my lips quivered. Rottenness comes into my bones, and beneath me I tremble — that I may rest for the day of distress, for the coming up against the people who raid us.

Habakkuk Rejoices

Though the fig tree does not blossom, and there is no yield on the vines; the work of the olive fails, and the terraces produce no food; the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls —

yet I will exult in the LORD; I will be glad in the God of my salvation.

GOD, the Lord, is my strength, and he makes my feet like the deer’s, and on my high places he makes me tread. To the choirmaster, with my stringed instruments.