Psalm 115

Oh God, maker of rain,
ruler of the skies,
your creation brings relief from the glare,
the sun stoked summer furnace.
The clouds cover the earth in coolness;
the rain drums a comforting beat.
The land drinks in refreshment,
praising its creator for soothing relief.

Just so, Yahweh, maker of men, ruler of all,
your grace gives us pause.
The burning heat of refinement if ever purifying
would reduce us to empty ashes.
We find instead mercy laid in our laps,
gifts of rest, a time of calm breath.
For you pour cool comfort with abandon,
washing away our dross to reveal joy in the fire.


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