The punching Bag

After talking on the phone with him, I feel like a punching bag....completely bruised inside. Beat up, exhausted like I've been fighting a battle.

It is not an enemy who taunts me—

I could bear that.

It is not my foes who so arrogantly insult me—

I could have hidden from them.

Instead, it is you—my equal,

my companion and close friend.

What good fellowship we once enjoyed

as we walked together to the house of God.

Let death stalk my enemies;

let the grave swallow them alive,

for evil makes its home within them.

But I will call on God,

and the Lord will rescue me.

Morning, noon, and night

I cry out in my distress,

and the Lord hears my voice.

He ransoms me and keeps me safe

from the battle waged against me,

though many still oppose me.

God, who has ruled forever,

will hear me and humble them.

For my enemies refuse to change their ways;

they do not fear God.

As for my companion, he betrayed his friends;

he broke his promises.

His words are as smooth as butter,

but in his heart is war.

His words are as soothing as lotion,

but underneath are daggers!

Give your burdens to the Lord,

and he will take care of you.

He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.

But you, O God, will send the wicked

down to the pit of destruction.

Murderers and liars will die young,

but I am trusting you to save me.