Surely, O’ Lord, there is a season for a soul.
Are there boundaries for the hunters?
Are there times when you as the warden
declare some out of season?
He who dwells in your private reserve is free from pursuit.
Safe from those who desire his flesh.
I say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my preserve,
My God, in whom I trust.”
I am the elk hiding in the brush.
“Have I gone too far?”
“Have I crossed a line?”
Driven by forces, I cannot see.
Hunted by an intelligence greater than mine.
They desire my head; a trophy for their case.
They will tell stories of the hunt and boast of my fall.
Patiently pressing, I sense their presence.
They track me; oh, my careless steps.
A weakness to wander beyond the boundary.
Their calls inflamed my desires, blinded my mind.
Will I know when it comes?
When the trap has been sprung?
Pushed into a clearing for a clear shot;
will it be close or come from afar,
the shot that makes me fall?
I fear this day of terror,
When arrow, ball, or bullet might fly.
I must get back.
I’ve wandered too far.
O’ Lord, I am sorry. I need you now.
I am in trouble. I have no way of escape.
Can I make a break for it, before it is too late?
I will make the Most High, my dwelling place.
He will be my green pasture. There is none better.
The Lord will be my refuge; no harm will befall me.
I will not lose my head.
My flesh will be saved from the hunter’s banquet.
They will not boast over my defeat.
I hear the Lord’s triumphant call.
He has come for me.
He knows that I wandered too far.
Safety is in His presence.
I will cling to His side.
I will stay within the boundaries,
established by the shadow of His Holiness.
No longer will I listen to the false calls in the wilderness.
I love the Lord, I will never leave.
“Because he love me,” says the Lord.
“I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation.” (Psalm 91:14-16)