PSALMS.
Chapter 92.
A psalm; a song; for the day of rest—a holy day. It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to make music to praise your name, O Most High. 
It is good to announce your mercy in the morning and your faithfulness in the evening 
on a ten-stringed instrument and a harp and with a melody on a lyre. 
You made me find joy in what you have done, O Lord. I will sing joyfully about the works of your hands. 
How spectacular are your works, O Lord! How very deep are your thoughts! 
A stupid person cannot know and a fool cannot understand 
that wicked people sprout like grass and all troublemakers blossom ⌞like flowers⌟, only to be destroyed forever. 
But you, O Lord, are highly honored forever. 
Now look at your enemies, O Lord. Now look at your enemies. They disappear, and all troublemakers are scattered. 
But you make me as strong as a wild bull, and soothing lotion is poured on me. 
My eyes gloat over those who spy on me. My ears hear ⌞the cries⌟ of evildoers attacking me. 
Righteous people flourish like palm trees and grow tall like the cedars in Lebanon. 
They are planted in the Lord’s house. They blossom in our God’s courtyards. 
Even when they are old, they still bear fruit. They are always healthy and fresh. 
They make it known that the Lord is decent. He is my rock. He is never unfair. 
