Proverbs 16

You can arrange your thoughts; you cannot guarantee the moment. A man drafts his case in his heart, but what actually comes out, and what it accomplishes, passes through the LORD's hands.

Self-assessment always comes back clean, because the inspector and the suspect are the same man. The LORD's scale is the one that reads true, and it weighs the spirit, not the story.

Roll your work onto the LORD, the Hebrew behind "commit" is literally "roll," and your plans find solid ground. A saying about transferred weight, not a success guarantee with a religious activation step.

Nothing in the world is running loose. Even the wicked, who acknowledge no purpose but their own, are swept up into the LORD's justice in the end. Evil does not get an exemption from God's government; it gets a court date.

Pride of heart, the inward certainty that you answer to no one, is abhorrent to the LORD, and numbers will not save it: even if the proud link arms, the verdict stands.

Mercy and truth, covenant loyalty and faithfulness, are the ground on which iniquity is covered, and the fear of the LORD is what walks a person away from evil. Relationship deals with the past; orientation guards the future.

A life that pleases the LORD tends to disarm hostility, and the LORD Himself is at work in the tendency. A real pattern, not a peace guarantee, and the proof is that the only Man whose ways fully pleased the LORD was crucified.

A small honest living beats a fortune with injustice in its foundations, and the proverb means the pricing literally: when the two conflict, take the little.

Plan the route; hold the steps loosely. The heart's planning is real and right, and the LORD's direction is realer still: the way you mapped and the steps you take are related but not identical, and the difference is His.

A king's ruling lands with the weight of an oracle, so his mouth carries an obligation to match: it must not betray justice.

Fair measurement belongs to the LORD personally: the scales on the merchant's table and the stones in his bag are His concern, which makes every transaction a theological event.

Wickedness in a king is abhorrent for a structural reason: righteousness is what thrones actually stand on. Power that rots its own foundation does not stay power.

Good kings prize truth-tellers: the counselor who speaks what is right rather than what is welcome, because honest words are the scarcest resource in any throne room.

Royal anger is lethal, arriving like messengers of death, and wisdom's response is neither panic nor bravado but de-escalation.

The king's smile is life-giving weather: his shining face means safety, and his favor is the spring rain that fattens the harvest. When the most powerful face in the room is for you, everything grows.

Wisdom outprices gold, understanding outprices silver, said as an exclamation because the sages meant it with feeling.

The upright travel a built road, and its route is defined by what it avoids. Staying on it is self-preservation of the deepest kind.

Pride is a leading indicator: it walks ahead of destruction the way lightning walks ahead of thunder. Not a threat but a sequence, observed so often the sages wrote it down as law-like.

Given the choice between a low seat among the humble and a share of winnings among the proud, take the low seat.

Two habits, one blessed life: handle the word with attention and you find good; trust the LORD and you are happy. The proverb refuses to choose between them.

Wisdom inside gets recognized outside, and pleasant speech makes teaching land. "Sweetness of the lips" is not flattery; it is truth dressed for travel.

Understanding refreshes its owner from within, a private spring keeping a life green. The fool's instructional economy is closed: folly teaching folly.

In a wise person, the heart runs the mouth, not the reverse: what is stored inside instructs what gets said.

Kind words are medicine twice over: sweetness to the soul and health to the bones. The proverb takes the healing power of a good sentence seriously enough to prescribe it.

A road can feel right the whole way down. Sincerity is not a compass, and Proverbs thought the warning important enough to print twice without changing a word.

Hunger is a built-in supervisor: the laborer works because his own mouth demands it, and the proverb regards the arrangement without cynicism.

Some evil has to be excavated, and the worthless man does the digging: unearthing dirt, reviving buried offenses. What he digs up he carries on his lips, and it burns.

The whisperer is a farmer of conflict: he sows strife like seed, and his masterpiece is separating even the best of friends.

Violence recruits. The violent man does not only harm his neighbor; he entices him, and the danger he poses is not just his fists but his invitation.

Malice has body language: the wink and the pursed lips are the facial signals of a scheme in motion, evil coordinated in plain sight.

Gray hair is royalty when righteousness put it there. The crown belongs to years spent in the right way, not to years merely survived.

Self-mastery outranks conquest: the person slow to anger stands above the war hero, because the hardest territory anyone governs is internal.

Even randomness reports to the LORD. The lot, the ancient world's coin flip, tumbles out of human control by design, and lands exactly where He decides.