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PsalmsChapter 42

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For the choirmaster. A maskil of the sons of Korah.
As a deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God's face?
My tears have been my food day and night, while all day long they say to me, "Where is your God?"
These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I walked in the throng and led the procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, my soul, and why do you groan within me? Hope in God, for I will praise him again—the salvation of his presence.
My God, my soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of the Jordan, from the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have swept over me.
By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God my rock, "Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about in mourning, oppressed by the enemy?"
Like a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, saying to me all day long, "Where is your God?"
Why are you cast down, my soul, and why do you groan within me? Hope in God, for I will praise him again—my salvation and my God.
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