Habakkuk 3:18

You trampled the sea with your horses,

churning mighty waters.

I heard, and my body trembled.

My lips quivered at the voice.

Rottenness enters into my bones, and I tremble in my place

because I must wait quietly for the day of trouble,

for the coming up of the people who invade us.

For even though the fig tree doesn’t flourish,

nor fruit be in the vines,

the labor of the olive fails,

the fields yield no food,

the flocks are cut off from the fold,

and there is no herd in the stalls,

GOD, the Lord, is my strength.

He makes my feet like deer’s feet,

and enables me to go in high places.

For the music director, on my stringed instruments.