Idahoan Psalter: Psalm 42
The Idahoan shares his paraphrase of the 42nd psalm.
As a deer gone astray in a desolate waste
Of parched and sunbaked earth
Doth yearn with ev’ry fainting breath,
On account of water’s dearth,
Even so doth my soul for the presence of God
And for His salvation thirst,
For tears have been my food and drink,
While the taunting question, “Where is Thy God?”
In my ears ever is rehearsed.
Why art thou downcast, oh my soul?
Why dost thou find no rest?
Hope thou in God who makes thee whole,
And find a voice His praise to sing,
For at his hand thou surely shalt be blessed!
How I long to go up to the house of the Lord,
As on a holy day,
And join the faithful multitude,
Who sing forth His praise with joy,
Yet here instead I languish in exile,
As though flound’ring adrift on a troubled sea,
Where naught but surf and stormy gale,
Lift their empty, lonesome melody.
Yet the Lord will show me favor
Openly in day’s broad light,
And the song of His unfailing love
Will sustain me through the night,
But the dawn of deliverance seems yet so far off,
Hast Thou, oh Lord, mine oppression forgot?
For the sword of my foes in all my being agony hath wrought!