A Prayer for Healing
41 1 To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David. Blessed is he who considers the poor! The Lord delivers him in the day of trouble; 2 the Lord protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; thou dost not give him up to the will of his enemies. 3 The Lord sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness thou healest all his infirmities. 4 As for me, I said, "O Lord, be gracious to me; heal me, for I have sinned against thee!"
5 My enemies say of me in malice: "When will he die, and his name perish?" 6 And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers mischief; when he goes out, he tells it abroad. 7 All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me. 8 They say, "A deadly thing has fastened upon him; he will not rise again from where he lies." 9 Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted his heel against me. 10 But do thou, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may requite them! 11 By this I know that thou art pleased with me, in that my enemy has not triumphed over me. 12 But thou hast upheld me because of my integrity, and set me in thy presence for ever. 13 Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting! Amen and Amen.
Thirsting for God
42 1 To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah. As a hart longs for flowing streams, so longs my soul for thee, O God. 2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? 3 My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 4 These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I went with the throng, and led them in procession to the house of God, with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help
6 and my God. My soul is cast down within me, therefore I remember thee from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. 7 Deep calls to deep at the thunder of thy cataracts; all thy waves and thy billows have gone over me. 8 By day the Lord commands his steadfast love; and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. 9 I say to God, my rock: "Why hast thou forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?" 10 As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 11 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.