Psalm 12 Healing the Wretched Heart
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Quick, God, I need your helping hand. The last decent
person just went down. All the friends I depended on, gone.
Everyone talks in lie language. Lies slide off their oily lips. They double talk
with forked tongues. Slice their lips off their faces, pull the braggart tongues from their
mou- mouths. I'm tired of hearing, "We can talk anyone into anything."
Our lips manage the world. Into the hovels of the poor. Into the dark
streets where the homeless groan, God speaks, "I've had enough. I'm on my
way to heal the ache in the heart of the wretched."
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