1Count yourself lucky, how happy you must be—
you get a fresh start,
your slate’s wiped clean.
2Count yourself lucky—
God holds nothing against you
and you’re holding nothing back from him.
3When I kept it all inside,
my bones turned to powder,
my words became daylong groans.
4The pressure never let up;
all the juices of my life dried up.
5Then I let it all out;
I said, “I’ll come clean about my failures to God.”
Suddenly the pressure was gone—
my guilt dissolved,
my sin disappeared.
6These things add up. Every one of us needs to pray;
when all hell breaks loose and the dam bursts
we’ll be on high ground, untouched.
7
God’s my island hideaway,
keeps danger far from the shore,
throws garlands of hosannas around my neck.
8Let me give you some good advice;
I’m looking you in the eye
and giving it to you straight:
9“Don’t be ornery like a horse or mule
that needs bit and bridle
to stay on track.”
10God-defiers are always in trouble;
God-affirmers find themselves loved
every time they turn around.
11Celebrate God.
Sing together—everyone!
All you honest hearts, raise the roof!
THE MESSAGE. Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved. Used by permission of NavPress, represented by Tyndale House Publishers.