This psalm of David sixty-nine
So thrills this aged heart of mine.
For sake of rhyme, I paraphrase,
To speak of David’s wayward ways.


Not wayward ways of one who hid
And told not God of things he did;
But wayward ways of one who knew
His God far better than we do.

And yet, because of wayward ways,
Let’s listen now as David prays:
“My God, the waters flood my soul,
I sink in mire in sin’s dark hole.

“I find there is no place to stand,
A foreigner in my Father’s land.
Restore, I pray, that precious joy,
I found in you when but a boy.”

For even as a child he knew,
From paw of bear and lion, too,
His God did give him strength to dare
To fight and slay both cat and bear.

And was he not the child who stood
And proved to Israel God was good.
With but a sling and five smooth stones,
In victory, stood above the bones.

Of one whom God’s word does declare
A giant, who from toe to hair,
Did stand six cubits and a span,
An awesome, fearsome, evil man.

And did not David lead his men
And prove to all that they could win
If they but kept their eyes on He,
Who gave to them each victory.

Was it not David filled with love,
When singing of his God above,
Sang words that yet thrill you and me,
Words written in Psalm twenty-three,

Where David sang in sweet accord,
Declared his shepherd was the Lord,
Who led him by the waters still,
Whose rod and staff kept him from ill,

Declaring also that his God,
Through death’s dark valley as he trod,
Would cause him not to evil fear,
Yet listen to the words we hear.

“My God, the waters flood my soul.
I sink in mire in sin’s dark hole.
I find there is no place to stand,
A foreigner in my Father’s land.”

Yes, satan took a heavy toll,
But could not steal King David’s soul,
‘Cause he, the apple of God’s eye,
Was glory filled when called to die.

But friend, there is a lesson here
That should cause all of us to fear.
Through God may love us everyone,
We’ll pay for every sin we’ve done.

And God, although He loves us so,
Will chastise each of us, you know:
And if we think we’re getting by,
Just listen now and hear the cry.

My God, the waters flood my soul,
I sink in mire in sin’s dark hole.
I find there is no place to stand,
A foreigner in my Father’s land.

William Raymond Waters, Sr.

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