To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments; according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.
O LORD, rebuke me not in Your anger,
nor discipline me in Your wrath.
(My God and Father, be merciful to me. Disciple me according to Your grace, and deal gently with my heart. I feel so vulnerable and weak, but I desire to seek after You and Your kingdom.)
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am languishing;
heal me, O LORD, for my bones are troubled.
My soul also is greatly troubled.
(Please, Lord, yes, be gracious. Languishing means feeling weak and feeble; Lord, my heart and my spirit feel that way. Even my hands and body begin to feel it. Like David, I too am troubled down to my marrow. I seek Your healing, both physically and spiritually.)
But You, O LORD— how long?
(My Lord and King, it feels like You tarry. Please make haste!)
Turn, O LORD, deliver my life;
save me for the sake of Your steadfast love.
(Save me from grief, save me from sorrow, save me from Satan’s wiles. Turn the direction of my heart, my longing, my life toward You and conform my will to Yours. For the sake of You and Your kingdom, please do these things, but also for my good, dear Lord, as Your daughter upon her knees.)
For in death there is no remembrance of You;
in Sheol who will give You praise?
(Give me remembrance of Your mercy, and give me strength to praise You wherever I go.)
I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
(It seems as though I should be properly dehydrated like a raisin by now. I am so tired of crying myself to sleep, and awaking in the morning to terrible dreams that simply bring tears afresh. Grief and sorrow are wearing. Physically and emotionally tiring. Please give me strength, for the tears keep coming.)
My eye wastes away because of grief;
it grows weak because of all my foes.
(My eye, my discernment, my seer of beauty – it fades. Grief makes it hard to discern, hard to see the beauty. I want to discern rightly according to Your will, and I want to see the beauties of Your hand all around me. But My foes feel too strong: Satan attacks when he knows my armor is weakened. He is wiley and cunning. He sends pangs into my heart when I do not desire the arrows or stings. These foes must be fought! Dear God, enable me.)
Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
(Yes, Lord, enable me to banish Satan and his army!)
for the LORD has heard the sound of my weeping.
(Oh Father, listen to my cry; do not turn me aside!)
The LORD has heard my plea;
the LORD accepts my prayer.
(Thank You, my King, for the assurance that my pleas and prayers do not fall upon deaf ears. Thank you for hearing me and accepting me.)
All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled;
they shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment.
(Oh Lord, this is victory indeed! My enemies of Satan, sin, and death shall fall into their own snares! You have overcome them all! When You but speak the word, they shall crumble and disintegrate, and oh how glorious! Put them to shame. Trample them under Your feet. You have conquered sin and death. Satan is thrown from his throne. Comfort my heart with this knowledge. And bring it to mind when I feel my enemies overtaking me. They have no power over me. I am Yours.)