Psalm 42

Psalm 42

Just as the deer, for streams of water, pants,
so too my soul, a manner similar.
My thirsting soul, the living God, it wants.
When can we meet, become familiar?

For day and night, my tears have been my food,
while people to me say this all day long:
“Where is your God?” These things I never would
forget as I pour out my soul, my song:

how I would go into the house of God,
the Mighty one with his protective shield.
With joy and praise, we give our high applause
among the festive throng, but what I feel:

why you, my soul, are so downcast within?
Why do I feel disturbances this way?
Now put your hope in God. I will again
praise him, my righteous God, the one who Saves!

My soul again is downcast within me;
therefore, my LORD, I will remember you
from Jordan’s land to Hermon’s heights I see,
from Mount Mizar, my hope in you renewed.

Deep calls to deep; the waterfalls, their roar.
Your waves and breakers, they swept over me.
By day, his love, what he directs, the LORD.
At night, his song with me assuringly:

a prayer to God, the master of my life.
To God my Rock: “Why’ve you forgotten me?
Why must I go with mourning, feeling strife —
that close oppression of the enemy?”

In mortal agony, my suff’ring bones.
My foes, they taunt; their faithless question asked:
“Where is your God?” — their constant, nagging drone.
My downcast soul, my confidence is tasked.

In God, the place to store your hope within.
My Savior and my God, I’ll praise again!