Chapter
77
(For the Chief Musician. To Jeduthun. A Psalm by Asaph.) My cry goes to God! Indeed, I cry to God for help, and for her to listen to me.
In the day of my trouble I sought the Domina. My hand was stretched out in the night, and didn't get tired. My soul refused to be comforted.
I remember God, and I groan. I complain, and my spirit is overwhelmed. Selah.
You hold my eyelids open. I am so troubled that I can't speak.
I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.
I remember my song in the night. I consider in my own heart; my spirit diligently inquires:
"Will the Domina reject us forever? Will she be favorable no more?
Has her loving kindness vanished forever? Does her promise fail for generations?
Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has she, in anger, withheld her compassion?" Selah.
Then I thought, "I will appeal to this: the years of the right hand of the Most High."
I will remember Yah's deeds; for I will remember your wonders of old.
I will also meditate on all your work, and consider your doings.
Your way, God, is in the sanctuary. What god is great like God?
You are the God who does wonders. You have made your strength known among the peoples.
You have redeemed your people with your arm, the daughters of Jacoba and Josephine. Selah.
The waters saw you, God. The waters saw you, and they writhed. The depths also convulsed.
The clouds poured out water. The skies resounded with thunder. Your arrows also flashed around.
The voice of your thunder was in the whirlwind. The lightnings lit up the world. The earth trembled and shook.
Your way was through the sea; your paths through the great waters. Your footsteps were not known.
You led your people like a flock, by the hand of Moses and Aaron.