Psalm 102

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Do Not Hide Your Face from Me

A Prayer of the afflicted when he is faint and pours out his complaint before Yahweh.

O Yahweh, hear my prayer!

And let my cry for help come to You.

Do not hide Your face from me in the day of my distress;

Incline Your ear to me;

In the day when I call answer me quickly.

For my days have vanished in smoke,

And my bones have been scorched like a hearth.

My heart has been stricken like grass and it has dried up,

Indeed, I forget to eat my bread.

Because of the sound of my groaning

My bones cling to my flesh.

I resemble a pelican of the wilderness;

I have become like an owl of the waste places.

I lie awake,

I have become like a lonely bird on a roof.

My enemies have reproached me all day long;

Those who ridicule me swear against me.

For I have eaten ashes like bread

And mixed my drinks with weeping

Because of Your indignation and Your wrath,

For You have lifted me up and cast me away.

My days are like an outstretched shadow,

And as for me, I dry up like grass.

But You, O Yahweh, abide forever,

And the remembrance of Your name from generation to generation.

You will arise and have compassion on Zion—

For it is time to be gracious to it,

For the appointed time has come.

For Your slaves find pleasure in its stones

And show grace to its dust—

So the nations will fear the name of Yahweh

And all the kings of the earth Your glory.

For Yahweh has built up Zion;

He has appeared in His glory.

He has turned toward the prayer of the destitute

And has not despised their prayer.

This will be written for the generation to come,

And a people yet to be created will praise Yah.

For He looked down from His holy height;

From heaven Yahweh gazed upon the earth,

To hear the groaning of the prisoner,

To set free those who were doomed to death,

To recount the name of Yahweh in Zion

And His praise in Jerusalem,

When the peoples are gathered together,

And the kingdoms, to serve Yahweh.

He has afflicted my strength in the way;

He has shortened my days.

I say, “O my God, do not take me away in the midst of my days,

Your years are from generation to all generations.

Of old You founded the earth,

And the heavens are the work of Your hands.

Even they will perish, but You will remain;

And all of them will wear out like a garment;

Like clothing You will change them and they will be changed.

But You are the same,

And Your years will not come to an end.

The children of Your slaves will dwell securely,

And their seed will be established before You.”

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