Psalm 42

A psalm of the sons of Korah

^1–342A white-tailed deer drinks

from the creek;

I want to drink God,

deep draughts of God.

I’m thirsty for God-alive.

I wonder, “Will I ever make it—

arrive and drink in God’s presence?”

I’m on a diet of tears—

tears for breakfast, tears for supper.

All day long

people knock at my door,

Pestering,

“Where is this God of yours?”

⁴These are the things I go over and over,

emptying out the pockets of my life.

I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd,

right out in front,

Leading them all,

eager to arrive and worship,

Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving—

celebrating, all of us, God’s feast!

⁵Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?

Why are you crying the blues?

Fix my eyes on God—

soon I’ll be praising again.

He puts a smile on my face.

He’s my God.

^6–8When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse

everything I know of you,

From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,

including Mount Mizar.

Chaos calls to chaos,

to the tune of whitewater rapids.

Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers

crash and crush me.

Then God promises to love me all day,

sing songs all through the night!

My life is God’s prayer.

^9–10Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God,

“Why did you let me down?

Why am I walking around in tears,

harassed by enemies?”

They’re out for the kill, these

tormentors with their obscenities,

Taunting day after day,

“Where is this God of yours?”

¹¹Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?

Why are you crying the blues?

Fix my eyes on God—

soon I’ll be praising again.

He puts a smile on my face.

He’s my God.