Study Desk

Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders You have done, and the plans You have for us-none can compare to You-if I proclaim and declare them, they are more than I can count.

For evils without number surround me; my sins have overtaken me, so that I cannot see. They are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart has failed within me.

For the choirmaster. A Psalm of David. Blessed is he who cares for the poor; the LORD will deliver him in the day of trouble.

I said, "O LORD, be gracious to me; heal me, for I have sinned against You."

All who hate me whisper against me; they imagine the worst for me:

By this I know that You delight in me, for my enemy does not triumph over me.

For the choirmaster. A Maskil of the sons of Korah. As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after You, O God.

My soul thirsts for God, the living God. When shall I come and appear in God's presence?

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why the unease within me? Put your hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the salvation of His presence.

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why the unease within me? Put your hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.

For You are the God of my refuge. Why have You rejected me? Why must I walk in sorrow because of the enemy's oppression?

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why the unease within me? Put your hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.

For the choirmaster. A Maskil of the sons of Korah. We have heard with our ears, O God; our fathers have told us the work You did in their days, in days of long ago.

For it was not by their sword that they took the land; their arm did not bring them victory; it was by Your right hand, Your arm, and the light of Your face; for You delighted in them.

You are my King, O God, who ordains victories for Jacob.

For I do not trust in my bow, nor does my sword deliver me.

You sell Your people for nothing; no profit do You gain from their sale.

Yet for Your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.

For our soul has sunk to the dust; our bodies cling to the earth.

For the choirmaster. To the tune of "The Lilies." A Maskil of the sons of Korah. A love song. My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses to the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.