Earthy Prayers

Since the day we got Jada, I've tried to read her one or two or three psalms.  We're up to the mid-70's now.  When we run out of Psalms, I'll probably move over to the Proverbs.

 

Early this week, I purchased Eugene Peterson's contemporary English version of the Psalms.  In his intro to this book, he talks about how most of our English translations render the Psalms into these epic and elegant Victorian-style prayers, when in fact the original Hebrew is much earthier and desperate.  Peterson's translation reminds us that when we pray to God, we don't have to have our words together, just like we don't have to have our act together. 

 

In fact, without doing an inventory of verses, I would venture to say that most of the Psalms is desperate cries for help, woeful laments of sadness, and scathing requests for vengeance.  Not the kind of flowery, pious tone you normally associate with the Psalms. 

 

So I've taken to reading this version to Jada.  Not necessarily because I want her to know this grittier translation, but because in reading Peterson's rendition to her I get to read it for myself and rediscover the earthiness of when God's people pray.