Psalm 102 Tuesday Readings 4
Yahweh, hear my prayer; * let my cry come to you.
Don't turn your face from me * on the day of my anguish
turn your ear toward me * on the day I call * be quick to answer me.
For my days pass more quickly than smoke, * and my bones are as hot as a stove.
Scorched like grass, my heart has withered; * I am wasted away by the Devourer.
My jaws are sick from my groaning; * my skeleton clings to my flesh.
I resemble a vulture in the wilderness; * I have become like an owl among ruins.
Sleepless, I have become like a sparrow, * chirping on the roof all day.
My Enemy taunts me; * my Mocker feasts on me.
Ashes I eat as my food, * and from my tears I draw my drink.
Because of your fury and your anger, * you lifted me up and threw me down.
My days are like a lengthening shadow, * and I wither like grass.
But you, Yahweh, * sit enthroned from eternity, * and your throne endures from age to age.
You will arise to show compassion to Zion, * because it is time to have pity on her; * yes, the appointed time has come.
How your servants love her stones, * by her dust are moved to pity!
The nations will revere your name, Yahweh, * and all kings of the earth your glory,
when Yahweh builds Zion anew, * appears to her in his glory,
when he regards the prayer of the destitute, * and does not despise their prayer.
Let this be written for the next generation, * that a people yet to be created might praise Yah:
“Yahweh looked down from his holy height; * from heaven to earth he gazed
to hear the groans of prisoners, * to release those condemned to die,
that Yahweh's name be proclaimed in Zion, * and his praise in Jerusalem,
when peoples gather together * with kings to serve him.”
Yahweh humbled my strength by his power, * and my God cut short the days of my prime.
“Do not take me away before half my days, * when your years last generations!”
Long ago you laid the earth's foundations, * and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you will remain; * all of them will wear out like clothes.
You change them like a garment, * and they pass away.
But you remain the same, * and your years will never end.
The children of your servants will dwell secure, * and their offspring shall stay in your presence.
Tuesday Readings 4