Psalm 40

I waited patiently for the Lord;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the desolate pit,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.

As a young man I dreamed of quicksand.

Wherever I walked, the surface gave way.

Nothing held, no progress could be made.

Metaphorically, the dream captured my reality.

Decades later I can join the psalmist in his song of praise.

Psalm 40