Psalm 102

A Prayer of  One Afflicted Who Grows Faint
And Voices His Lament Before Jehovah

Hear my prayer, O Jehovah.
Receive my cry for help.
Do not hide your face from me
In my time of trouble.
Listen to me when I call
And answer me quickly.
For my days vanish like smoke.
My bones burn like a furnace.
My heart is afflicted
And has withered like dry grass.
I forget to eat my food.
I groan aloud in agony;
I am but skin and bones.
I am like a pelican
In the desert wilderness,
An owl amid ruins.
I lie awake, sleepless,
Like a lone bird on the roof.

My enemies taunt me all the day long.
Those that mock me use my name as a curse.
My food is ashes, my drink, mixed with tears.
Because of your anger and indignation,
(For you have picked me up and tossed me aside)
My days are lengthening shadows, dry grass.

But you,  Jehovah, sit upon your throne forever,
And your renown endures through the generations.
You will rise up and show pity for Jerusalem.
It is time to show her favor; yes, now is the time!
For your servants cherish her stones, even her dust.
Foreign nations will fear the name of Jehovah,
And all the kings of the earth will respect your glory.

For Jehovah will rebuild Jerusalem
And will appear there in all his splendor.
He will answer the prayers of the destitute
And will not ignore their supplications.
Record this for future generations
That people yet unborn may praise Jehovah.
For he looks down from his high sanctuary;
From Heaven Jehovah observes the earth.
Listening to the wails of prisoners,
He rescues those who are condemned to die
That they might proclaim the name of Jehovah
In Zion and praise him in Jerusalem
When the tribes assemble and the kingdoms
Come together to worship Jehovah.

When I was in the prime of life
He broke my strength and shortened my days.
And so I cried out, “O my God,
Take me not in the midst of my life,
You whose years last through the ages.
You established the earth of old;
The heavens are your handiwork.
They will pass away, but you remain.
They will wear out as old clothes do,
And like articles of clothing
You will change them and throw them away.
But you will ever stay the same
And your years go on forever.
The children of those who serve you
Will continue and their descendants,
Under your auspices, will thrive.”