Psalms 144:1-8

Blessed be GOD, my mountain, who trains me to fight fair and well. He’s the bedrock on which I stand, the castle in which I live, my rescuing knight, The high crag where I run for dear life, while he lays my enemies low. I wonder why you care, GOD— why do you bother with us at all? All we are is a puff of air; we’re like shadows in a campfire. Step down out of heaven, GOD; ignite volcanoes in the hearts of the mountains. Hurl your lightnings in every direction; shoot your arrows this way and that. Reach all the way from sky to sea: pull me out of the ocean of hate, out of the grip of those barbarians Who lie through their teeth, who shake your hand then knife you in the back.