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Lamentations 3: 10-24 (MSG)
He’s a prowling bear tracking me down, a lion in hiding ready to pounce.
He knocked me from the path and ripped me to pieces.
When he finished, there was nothing left of me.
He took out his bow and arrows and used me for target practice.
He shot me in the stomach with arrows from his quiver.
Everyone took me for a joke, made me the butt of their mocking ballads.
He forced rotten, stinking food down my throat,bloated me with vile drinks.
He ground my face into the gravel.
He pounded me into the mud.
I gave up on life altogether.
I’ve forgotten what the good life is like.
I said to myself, “This is it. I’m finished.
God is a lost cause.”
I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:
God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
He’s all I’ve got left.
As Christians how close in our life have we been to this verse and clung desperately to our faith in God and survived, but look around us, at all those suffering in so many ways without knowing God, how can we bring them to faith so they can survive?
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