Psalms 88
88
PSALM 88
Common Meter: 8,6,8,6
A Song or Psalm for the sons of Korah, to the chief Musician upon Mahalath Leannoth, Maschil of Heman the Ezrahite.
1Lord God, my Saviour, day and night
before thee cry'd have I.
2Before thee let my prayer come;
give ear unto my cry.
3For troubles great do fill my soul;
my life draws nigh the grave.
4I'm counted with those that go down to pit,
and no strength have.
5Ev'n free among the dead, like them
that slain in grave do lie;
Cut off from thy hand, whom no more
thou hast in memory.
6Thou hast me laid in lowest pit,
in deeps and darksome caves.
7Thy wrath lies hard on me, thou hast
me press'd with all thy waves.
8Thou hast put far from me my friends,
thou mad'st them to abhor me;
And I am so shut up, that I
find no evasion for me.
9By reason of affliction
mine eye mourns dolefully:
To thee, Lord, do I call,
and stretch my hands continually.
10Wilt thou shew wonders to the dead?
shall they rise, and thee bless?
11Shall in the grave thy love be told?
in death thy faithfulness?
12Shall thy great wonders in the dark,
or shall thy righteousness
Be known to any in the land
of deep forgetfulness?
13But, Lord, to thee I cry'd; my pray'r
at morn prevent shall thee.
14Why, Lord, dost thou cast off my soul,
and hid'st thy face from me?
15Distress'd am I, and from my youth
I ready am to die;
Thy terrors I have borne, and am
distracted fearfully.
16The dreadful fierceness of thy wrath
quite over me doth go:
Thy terrors great have cut me off,
they did pursue me so.
17For round about me ev'ry day,
like water, they did roll;
And, gathering together, they
have compassed my soul.
18My friends thou hast put far from me,
and him that did me love;
And those that mine acquaintance were
to darkness didst remove.
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maintained by the British and Foreign Bible Society
Psalms 88
88
1-9a God, you’re my last chance of the day.
I spend the night on my knees before you.
Put me on your salvation agenda;
take notes on the trouble I’m in.
I’ve had my fill of trouble;
I’m camped on the edge of hell.
I’m written off as a lost cause,
one more statistic, a hopeless case.
Abandoned as already dead,
one more body in a stack of corpses,
And not so much as a gravestone—
I’m a black hole in oblivion.
You’ve dropped me into a bottomless pit,
sunk me in a pitch-black abyss.
I’m battered senseless by your rage,
relentlessly pounded by your waves of anger.
You turned my friends against me,
made me horrible to them.
I’m caught in a maze and can’t find my way out,
blinded by tears of pain and frustration.
9b-12 I call to you, God; all day I call.
I wring my hands, I plead for help.
Are the dead a live audience for your miracles?
Do ghosts ever join the choirs that praise you?
Does your love make any difference in a graveyard?
Is your faithful presence noticed in the corridors of hell?
Are your marvelous wonders ever seen in the dark,
your righteous ways noticed in the Land of No Memory?
13-18I’m standing my ground, God, shouting for help,
at my prayers every morning, on my knees each daybreak.
Why, God, do you turn a deaf ear?
Why do you make yourself scarce?
For as long as I remember I’ve been hurting;
I’ve taken the worst you can hand out, and I’ve had it.
Your wildfire anger has blazed through my life;
I’m bleeding, black-and-blue.
You’ve attacked me fiercely from every side,
raining down blows till I’m nearly dead.
You made lover and neighbor alike dump me;
the only friend I have left is Darkness.
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THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved. Used by permission of NavPress. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers.