James 3:5The Message
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Their hearts are hard as nails, their mouths blast hot air. They are after me, nipping my heels, determined to bring me down, Lions ready to rip me apart, young lions poised to pounce. Up, God: beard them! break them! By your sword, free me from their clutches; Barehanded, God, break these mortals, these flat-earth people who can’t think beyond today. I’d like to see their bellies swollen with famine food, The weeds they’ve sown harvested and baked into famine bread, With second helpings for their children and crusts for their babies to chew on.
I’m determined to watch steps and tongue so they won’t land me in trouble. I decided to hold my tongue as long as Wicked is in the room. “Mum’s the word,” I said, and kept quiet. But the longer I kept silence The worse it got— my insides got hotter and hotter. My thoughts boiled over; I spilled my guts.