•   Verse by verse
  •   Verse numbers
  •   Section headings
  •   Red letters

Habakkuk 3:1 - 3:19

Yet I Will Exalt in Yahweh

A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth.
O Yahweh, I have heard the report about You, and I fear.
O Yahweh, revive Your work in the midst of the years;
In the midst of the years make it known;
In rage remember compassion.

God comes from Teman,
And the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah.
His splendor covers the heavens,
And the earth is full of His praise.
His brightness is like the sunlight;
He has rays flashing from His hand,
And there is the hiding of His strength.
Before Him goes pestilence,
And plague comes after Him.
He stood and measured out the earth;
He looked and startled the nations.
So the perpetual mountains were shattered;
The ancient hills collapsed.
His ways are everlasting.
I saw the tents of Cushan under wickedness;
The tent curtains of the land of Midian were trembling.

Did Yahweh’s fury burn against the rivers,
Or was Your anger against the rivers,
Or was Your wrath against the sea,
That You rode on Your horses,
On Your chariots of salvation?
Your bow was made bare;
Rods were sworn unto battle by word. Selah.
You split the earth with rivers.
The mountains saw You and writhed;
The downpour of waters passed by.
The deep gave forth its voice;
It lifted high its hands.
Sun and moon stood in their lofty places;
They went away at the light of Your arrows,
At the brightness of Your flashing spear.
In indignation You marched through the earth;
In anger You trampled the nations.
You went forth for the salvation of Your people,
For salvation with Your anointed.
You crushed the head of the house of the wicked
To lay him bare from thigh to neck. Selah.
You pierced with his own sharpened rods
The head of his throngs.
They stormed in to scatter us;
Their exultation was like those
Who devour the afflicted in secret.
You tread on the sea with Your horses,
On the surge of many waters.

I heard, and my inward parts trembled;
At the sound my lips tingled.
Decay enters my bones,
And in my place I tremble.
Because I must wait quietly for the day of distress,
For the people to arise who will invade us.
Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no produce on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields yield no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in Yahweh;
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
Yahweh, the Lord, is my strength,
And He has set my feet like hinds’ feet
And makes me tread on my high places.
For the choir director, on my stringed instruments.