Bob Dylan has nothing on my favorite songwriter. Jon Foreman writes music that can make you laugh and cry on the same track. Known primarily as the frontman for the excellent rock outfit Switchfoot, Foreman releases music at a prodigious rate. He routinely plays free solo concerts after Switchfoot shows. He has published several collections of solo songs that you should most definitely check out as soon as possible. If his list of talents and accolades isn’t impressive enough for you, Foreman is also an accomplished surfer and filmmaker and he just seems über-cool.

Our featured song for this week starts with devastation and ends with hope. Foreman begins by comparing his misery to “a fruit picker who’s arrived here after the harvest.” His pain stems from an honest look at the injustice and rebellion that characterizes not only his life but the world around him. But the song ends with a triumphant declaration of God’s justice and mercy. Listen deeply and be blessed by this beautiful song. His point? God’s ability to execute justice and administer mercy far surpasses our inability to live righteously in this perverted age.

How miserable I am
I feel like a fruit-picker who arrived here
After the harvest
There’s nothing here at all
There’s nothing at all here that could placate my hunger
The godly people are all gone
There’s not one honest soul left alive
Here on the planet
We’re all murderers and thieves
Setting traps here for even our brothers

And both of our hands
Are equally skilled
At doing evil
Equally skilled
At bribing the judges
Equally skilled
At perverting justice
Both of our hands
Both of our hands

The day of justice comes
And is even now swiftly arriving
Don’t trust anyone at all
Not your best friend or even your wife
For the son hates the father
The daughter despises even her mother
Look, your enemies are right
Right in the room of your very household

And both of their hands

Are equally skilled
At doing evil
Equally skilled
At bribing the judges
Equally skilled
At perverting justice
Both of their hands
Both of their hands

No, don’t gloat over me
For though I fall, though I fall
I will rise again
Though I sit here in darkness
The Lord, the Lord alone
He will be my light
I will be patient as the Lord
Punishes me for the wrongs I’ve done
Against Him
After that, He’ll take my case
Bringing me to light and to justice
For all I have suffered

And both of His hands
Are equally skilled
At ruining evil
Equally skilled
At judging the judges
Equally skilled
Administering justice
Both of His hands

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