My
cry goes to God!
Indeed,
I cry to God for help,
and
for him to listen to me.
In
the day of my trouble I sought the Lord.
My
hand was stretched out in the night, and didn’t get tired.
My
soul refused to be comforted.
I
remember God, and I groan.
I
complain, and my spirit is overwhelmed.
You
hold my eyelids open.
I
am so troubled that I can’t speak.
I
have considered the days of old,
the
years of ancient times.
I
remember my song in the night.
I
consider in my own heart;
my
spirit diligently inquires:
“Will
the Lord reject us forever?
Will
he be favorable no more?
Has
his loving kindness vanished forever?
Does
his promise fail for generations?
Has
God forgotten to be gracious?
Has
he, in anger, withheld his compassion?”
Then
I thought, “I will appeal to this:
the
years of the right hand of the Most High.”
I
will remember Yah’s deeds;
for
I will remember your wonders of old.
I
will also meditate on all your work,
and
consider your doings.
Your
way, God, is in the sanctuary.
What
god is great like God?
You
are the God who does wonders.
You
have made your strength known among the peoples.
You
have redeemed your people with your arm,
the
sons of Jacob and Joseph.
The
waters saw you, God.
The
waters saw you, and they writhed.
The
depths also convulsed.
The
clouds poured out water.
The
skies resounded with thunder.
Your
arrows also flashed around.
The
voice of your thunder was in the whirlwind.
The
lightnings lit up the world.
The
earth trembled and shook.
Your
way was through the sea;
your
paths through the great waters.
Your
footsteps were not known.
You
led your people like a flock,
by
the hand of Moses and Aaron.
Psalm 77
