Psalm 13 (6min 54sec)

TRANSCRIPT

So today, I've been asked to go over Psalm 13. Apparently it's kind of a dark passage, which is fine with me. Psalm 13. To the chief musician, a psalm of David. How long wilt thou forget me? O Lord, forever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? So how long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? someone's in doubt. Strong, strong, strong doubt. Doubt in what? not that, that the Lord doesn't exist. It's not saying that. not the doubt. The doubt is, is that this person can be forgotten. The doubt is in himself thinking the Lord doesn't have the capacity or refuses to activate the capacity to remember a chief musician. So I'm assuming that's stated. How long will thou hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul? Having sorrowed my heart daily? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? If we had everything perfectly our way, if everything, if the world just, if the universe just revolved around us, our soul would be justified. And everyone would be enamoured with your soul. If, if we gave in to ego, if we gave it to Igor, our soul would be the most entertaining thing on the planet. And therefore, your soul will be satisfied by your fandom. Heat musician, oh, Lord, forever, how long to hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel on my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? So he's yearning. This is what's occurring, urine, to urine. There's a schism between what you know is true and what you want to be true. These are the... Your yearnings eventually have to come to a close and know that I know that your soul makes you unique. Your soul makes you unique, but it's immoral. It's not moral. Soul alone is not moral. Love alone is not moral. The sorrow of my heart, the musician, has to exercise the yearning, has to exercise the yearning. And then how long shall my enemy be exalted? Who's your enemy? For a musician. You're critics, you're critics. Critics are a musician's enemy, and they hold over you because your yearnings are criticized and judged by hypocrites. Because I know what a hit immutable flies, do you? Do you want to know? Well, there's no going back. There is no going back. You understand? You have to be hyper smart. Hyper, hyper smart. To a ride to their own conclusion by yourself, first me just telling you, okay? And then he goes, have to trust and accept that that's the truth. Okay? Um, that's what psychosis gave me. It's, like, Bobby for apples and piss. Satan's piss. I could not get air until I acknowledge his wisdom. And I have to exercise that through yearning in a way that doesn't get me arrested. That is the tragedy of an artist. Consider, and hear me, O Lord, my God, light my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death. Suicide. Sorry, artists, they remain suicides, but I think he's romancing suicide here. Less my enemies say, I have prevailed against him. And those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved. I have prevailed against him. Who's him? Your critics? Do your critics believe in the same thing you believe? Why would the critics be happy with your programs? Because you're conquering your faith to amuse them. So him, that's my enemies saying, I have prevailed against God. Lord, Jesus, and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved, because I've succumbed to heresy. I rejected God, in the eyes of my critics, the critics now love you. You took the critics' criticism, seriously, enough to change your own belief system. Now you're a critic, now we judge all as critics. We judge the others, and we are moved. We are moved. that artists become critics. For artists that don't make it, they become critics. Artists can be two things, amuse or a critic? I'm a muse. You understand? I'm amused. But I am trusted in the mercy, my heart shall rejoice in my salvation, but I have trusted in thy mercy, my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. So that's, that's the period to the yearning. And then, then the, the flow, The flow of truth says, But I am trusted in thy mercy because we're fallible. Right? This is how we are interesting. Okay? I think fallible people are interesting. I don't know if perfect people, 'cause how can a human be perfect? How can a human be perfect? You would doubt that, uh, they have no flaw. It's the lack of flaws, what makes them interesting. But those are shysters, they're crooks, cultists. So here, but entrusted in thy mercy, my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me. So Jesus is my news. Okay? So that's the. This speaks to me. Psalm 13. Jesus is my muse.