Psalms 102
Open Word Bible
LORD, listen to my prayer; let my call for help reach you. Do not turn your face away from me on the day trouble presses me hard. Bend down and listen to me; on the day I call, be quick to answer. For my days are going up in smoke, and my bones are scorched like a hearth. My heart is beaten down and dried up like grass; I do not even remember to eat. All my groaning has worn me down until my bones stick to my skin. I am like an owl out in the wilderness, a little owl in a place of ruins. Sleep will not come; I am like a single bird sitting on the housetop. My enemies scorn me the whole day; those who jeer at me make my name a curse. For ashes are the bread I eat, and tears fall into what I drink, because of your fury and your anger; you picked me up and flung me away. My days are a shadow that stretches out as the sun goes down; I dry up like grass. But you, LORD, are King on your throne forever, and your name lives on from one generation to the next. You will stand up and take pity on Zion; the hour to be kind to her is here, the time you set has come. For your servants treasure her very stones and grieve over her dust. Then nations will stand in awe of the name of the LORD, and every king on earth will tremble at your glory. For the LORD will build Zion again; he will be seen in all his glory. He will listen when the destitute pray and will not wave their prayers aside. Put this in writing for the generation still to come, and a people that is still to be created will praise the LORD, that the LORD bent down from his holy heights and looked out from heaven over the earth, to listen to the moaning of captives and free those marked for death, so that people may make the LORD’s name known in Zion and sing his praise in Jerusalem, when nations and kingdoms all gather to serve the LORD. On the road of life he has worn down my strength and made my days few. So I say: My God, do not take me away when only half my days are done, you whose years run on from age to age. Long ago you set the earth on its foundations; the heavens are what your hands have made. They will come to an end, but you stand firm; all of them will grow old and thin like a cloak. Like worn clothing you will exchange them, and they will be gone. But you are the one who does not change, and your years will never be finished. The children of your servants will make their home in the land, and their descendants will be kept safe in your presence.
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