Psalm 22                                                                                                    Friday Midday 3

My God, my God, * why have you abandoned me,

dismissing my plea, * the roar of my words?

    My God, I call out by day, * but you do not answer,

        and by night, * with no relief.

    But you sit upon the holy throne, * the Glory of Israel.

In you our fathers trusted; * they trusted and you rescued them.

To you they cried and were delivered; * in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

    But I am a worm and not a man, * the most scorned of men and despised of the people.

        All who see me make fun of me; * they gape at me and wag their heads.

           “He lived for Yahweh, let him deliver him; * let him rescue him if he cares for him.”

           Yet you brought me from the womb, * made me secure at my mother's breast.

        By you I have been nourished from birth; * from my mother's womb you are my God.

    Stay not far from me, * for the adversaries are near, * for there is none to help.

        Strong bulls surround me; * wild bulls from Bashan encircle me.

        They open their mouths against me, * like a ravening and raging lion.

           I am poured out like water, * and all my bones are racked.

           My heart has become like wax, * dripping out of my chest.

               My strength is dried up like a clay pot, * my tongue sticks to my jaws, *

               and they put me in the mud of Death.

                  For dogs have surrounded me; * a pack of evildoers encircle me.

                  They picked clean my hands and my feet, * so that I can number all my bones.

               See how they glare and stare at me. *

               They divide my garments among them, * and over my robe they cast lots.

           But you, Yahweh, be not far away; * my Army, hurry to help me.

           Rescue my neck from the sword, * my face from the blade of the ax.

        Save me from the lion's mouth; * over the horns of wild oxen make me triumph,

        that I might proclaim your name to my brothers, * and in the midst of the assembly praise you.

    You who fear Yahweh, praise him; * all offspring of Jacob, honor him. * Stand in awe of him, all offspring of Israel.

        For he has not despised * nor disdained the song of the afflicted.

           He did not turn his face from him, * but when he cried, he listened to him.

           A hundred times I will praise you * in the great assembly. * I will fulfill my vows, my Leader.

        Those who fear him will eat; * the poor will be content.

    Those who seek Yahweh will praise him. * May your hearts live forever.

All the ends of the earth * will remember and return to Yahweh.

And all the clans of the nations * will bow down before him.

    For Yahweh is truly king * and ruler over the nations.

        Indeed to him shall bow down * all who sleep in the underworld.

    Before him shall bend their knee * all who have gone down to the Mud, * for the Victor himself restores to life.

May my descendants serve him, * and tell of the Lord forever.

May they begin telling his goodness, * to people yet unborn that he has acted.


End of Fri Midday 3

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