King James Version

Psalm 38

1O Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath: neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.

For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore.

There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine anger; neither is there any rest in my bones because of my sin.

For mine iniquities are gone over mine head: as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me.

My wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolishness.

I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.

For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease: and there is no soundness in my flesh.

I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.

Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee.

10 My heart panteth, my strength faileth me: as for the light of mine eyes, it also is gone from me.

11 My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore; and my kinsmen stand afar off.

12 They also that seek after my life lay snares for me: and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long.

13 But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth.

14 Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs.

15 For in thee, O Lord, do I hope: thou wilt hear, O Lord my God.

16 For I said, Hear me, lest otherwise they should rejoice over me: when my foot slippeth, they magnify themselves against me.

17 For I am ready to halt, and my sorrow is continually before me.

18 For I will declare mine iniquity; I will be sorry for my sin.

19 But mine enemies are lively, and they are strong: and they that hate me wrongfully are multiplied.

20 They also that render evil for good are mine adversaries; because I follow the thing that good is.

21 Forsake me not, O Lord: O my God, be not far from me.

22 Make haste to help me, O Lord my salvation.

The Message

Psalm 38

A David Psalm

11-2 Take a deep breath, God; calm down—
    don’t be so hasty with your punishing rod.
Your sharp-pointed arrows of rebuke draw blood;
    my backside smarts from your caning.

3-4 I’ve lost twenty pounds in two months
    because of your accusation.
My bones are brittle as dry sticks
    because of my sin.
I’m swamped by my bad behavior,
    collapsed under gunnysacks of guilt.

5-8 The cuts in my flesh stink and grow maggots
    because I’ve lived so badly.
And now I’m flat on my face
    feeling sorry for myself morning to night.
All my insides are on fire,
    my body is a wreck.
I’m on my last legs; I’ve had it—
    my life is a vomit of groans.

9-16 Lord, my longings are sitting in plain sight,
    my groans an old story to you.
My heart’s about to break;
    I’m a burned-out case.
Cataracts blind me to God and good;
    old friends avoid me like the plague.
My cousins never visit,
    my neighbors stab me in the back.
My competitors blacken my name,
    devoutly they pray for my ruin.
But I’m deaf and mute to it all,
    ears shut, mouth shut.
I don’t hear a word they say,
    don’t speak a word in response.
What I do, God, is wait for you,
    wait for my Lord, my God—you will answer!
I wait and pray so they won’t laugh me off,
    won’t smugly strut off when I stumble.

17-20 I’m on the edge of losing it—
    the pain in my gut keeps burning.
I’m ready to tell my story of failure,
    I’m no longer smug in my sin.
My enemies are alive and in action,
    a lynch mob after my neck.
I give out good and get back evil
    from God-haters who can’t stand a God-lover.

21-22 Don’t dump me, God;
    my God, don’t stand me up.
Hurry and help me;
    I want some wide-open space in my life!