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Psalm 102

A prayer of an oppressed person, when weak and pouring out grief to the Lord.

102 Lord, hear my prayer!
    Let my cry reach you!
Don’t hide your face from me
    in my time of trouble!
Listen to me!
    Answer me quickly as I cry out!
Because my days disappear like smoke,
    my bones are burned up as if in an oven;
    my heart is smashed like dried-up grass.
    I even forget to eat my food
    because of my intense groans.
    My bones are protruding from my skin.
I’m like some wild owl—
    like some screech owl in the desert.
I lie awake all night.
    I’m all alone like a bird on a roof.
All day long my enemies make fun of me;
    those who mock me curse using my name!
I’ve been eating ashes instead of bread.
    I’ve been mixing tears into my drinks
10         because of your anger and wrath,
        because you picked me up and threw me away.
11 My days are like a shadow soon gone.
    I’m dried up like dead grass.

12 But you, Lord, rule forever!
    Your fame lasts from one generation to the next!
13 You will stand up—
        you’ll have compassion on Zion
        because it is time to have mercy on her—
    the time set for that has now come!
14 Your servants cherish Zion’s stones;
    they show mercy even to her dirt.
15 The nations will honor the Lord’s name;
    all the earth’s rulers will honor your glory
16     because the Lord will rebuild Zion;
    he will be seen there in his glory.
17 God will turn to the prayer of the impoverished;
    he won’t despise their prayers.

18 Let this be written down for the next generation
    so that people not yet created will praise the Lord:
19     The Lord looked down from his holy summit,
        surveyed the earth from heaven,
20         to hear the prisoners’ groans,
        to set free those condemned to death,
21         that the Lord’s name may be declared in Zion
        and his praise declared in Jerusalem,
22         when all people are gathered together—
        all kingdoms—to serve the Lord.

23 God broke my strength in midstride,
    cutting my days short.
24 I said, “My God, don’t take me away in the prime of life—
    your years go on from one generation to the next!
25 You laid the earth’s foundations long ago;
    the skies are your handiwork.
26 These things will pass away, but you will last.
    All of these things will wear out like clothing;
    you change them like clothes, and they pass on.
27 But you are the one!
    Your years never end!
28 Let your servants’ children live safe;
    let your servants’ descendants live secure in your presence.”

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