Psalm 42 (The Message)

A white-tailed dear 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?"

These 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!

Why 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.

When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse

everything I know of You.

From the 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.

The God promises to love me all day,

sing songs all thru the night!

My life is God's prayer.

Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God.

"why did you let me down?

Why am I walking around in tears,

harassed by my enemies?"

They're out for the kill,

these tormenters with their obscenities,

taunting day after day,

"where is this God of yours?"

Why 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.