Psalm 52 --My People*

“My people” are a mess!*
Some of my people are such mess they brag about it.
Some of my people ignore the demands of good—
Some have tongues like razors.
Some put their trust in material things
and protect them fiercely.
They just don’t get it.

Some of my people are doomed to die.
They will get snatched out of their protective tents
and hung out to dry.
And the rest of my people will say—
“You see…We’ve been trying to tell you…”

Some of my people are planted like little trees
in the house of God
They trust in the steadfast love of God
They thank God forever.
And proclaim God’s name to those who can hear.
(They will also die in their time, but for now,
May I identify with them, and thrive.)



*Some South American Indians talk about the facets of self as “my people.”