Saturday Psalm #22

My God, my God,
how can you let me feel forsaken?
You seem so distant,
so far from the words of my groaning.
My God, I call to you by day,
but hear nothing back from you.
I call at night;
I am not silent…why are you?

Holy One, high and lifted up,
you sit enthroned on the praises of your people.
My ancestors trusted you;
they leaned on you, and you saved them.
They cried out for your help
and you bent down
and scooped them up in your arms.
They threw themselves on your care,
and were not disappointed.

But I am brought low, like a worm crawling in the dust.
People say untrue things behind my back.
They even lie to my face.
They attribute their ‘stuff’ to me.
They’re probably thinking, “I can’t wait
to see you get your comeuppance.
When you fall on your face,
we’ll all know that God wasn’t with you in the first place.”

But you have been with me from birth, Lord.
You’ve graced me with your presence
since my diaper days.
And I have leaned on you since before I can remember;
you have been my God from birth.
So don't abandon me now,
when trouble surrounds me
and I feel all alone.
You see them, Father, those around me who wish me evil,
who snap and snipe at me like rabid dogs,
and like predators
wait for an opportunity to attack.
I don’t have the strength to fight back;
my blood feels water-thin,
and my old bones are weary.
My heart just isn’t in it,
it feels like all the fight has gone out of me.
I have no desire to defend myself anymore,
and no words to turn back their hatred.
I lie down: let them bury me.
All those who hate me surround me,
like dogs, they are relentless,
nipping at my ankles,
they’ll never be satisfied or turned away.

So, Lord, come.
You are my strength, you’re all I’ve got; hurry to help me.
Save me from their long knives;
save me from their growling and grumbling.
Rescue me from their lion's teeth;
save me from their longhorns.

All I want to do is tell others about you;
I just want to speak your good news.
I want to praise you, Lord, with those who revere you,
and actually honor you by taking you at your word
and doing what you say.
You will not ignore my troubles.
You will not hide from me
but will hear me when I whine and cry and sob to you.
Lord, I praise you in the company of your people;
your true worshipers will see me do what I have promised.
Let the poor eat their fill;
let your true worshipers praise you.
May their hearts forever beat your praises!
Let people everywhere remember
and turn to you, Lord.
Let all the families of the world
worship you
because you are King,
and you rule the nations.

Let weak and strong all feast and worship you together.
Let everyone bow down to you,
every mortal soul.
Preserve your praise among future generations,
and let my children’s children hear of you.
Let them proclaim your righteousness
to their children, not yet born,
for everything you do is worth telling.

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