My God, free me from the grip of Wicked, from the clutch of Bad and Bully. You keep me going when times are tough— my bedrock, God, since my childhood. I’ve hung on you from the day of my birth, the day you took me from the cradle; I’ll never run out of praise. Many gasp in alarm when they see me, but you take me in stride.

Just as each day brims with your beauty, my mouth brims with praise. But don’t turn me out to pasture when I’m old or put me on the shelf when I can’t pull my weight. My enemies are talking behind my back, watching for their chance to knife me. The gossip is: “God has abandoned him. Pounce on him now; no one will help him.”

God, don’t just watch from the sidelines. Come on! Run to my side! My accusers—make them lose face. Those out to get me—make them look Like idiots, while I stretch out, reaching for you, and daily add praise to praise. I’ll write the book on your righteousness, talk up your salvation all the day long, never run out of good things to write or say. I come in the power of the Lord God, I post signs marking his right-of-way.

You got me when I was an unformed youth, God, and taught me everything I know. Now I’m telling the world your wonders; I’ll keep at it until I’m old and gray. God, don’t walk off and leave me until I get out the news Of your strong right arm to this world, news of your power to the world yet to come, Your famous and righteous ways, O God. God, you’ve done it all! Who is quite like you? You, who made me stare trouble in the face, Turn me around; Now let me look life in the face. I’ve been to the bottom; Bring me up, streaming with honors; turn to me, be tender to me, And I’ll take up the lute and thank you to the tune of your faithfulness, God. I’ll make music for you on a harp, Holy One of Israel. When I open up in song to you, I let out lungsful of praise, my rescued life a song. All day long I’m chanting about you and your righteous ways, While those who tried to do me in slink off looking ashamed.

And live! Oh, let him live! Deck him out in Sheba gold. Offer prayers unceasing to him, bless him from morning to night. Fields of golden grain in the land, cresting the mountains in wild exuberance, Cornucopias of praise, praises springing from the city like grass from the earth. May he never be forgotten, his fame shine on like sunshine. May all godless people enter his circle of blessing and bless the One who blessed them.

Mark and remember, God, all the enemy taunts, each idiot desecration. Don’t throw your lambs to the wolves; after all we’ve been through, don’t forget us. Remember your promises; the city is in darkness, the countryside violent. Don’t leave the victims to rot in the street; make them a choir that sings your praises.

And I’m telling the story of God Eternal, singing the praises of Jacob’s God. The fists of the wicked are bloody stumps, The arms of the righteous are lofty green branches.

Fierce you are, and fearsome! Who can stand up to your rising anger? From heaven you thunder judgment; earth falls to her knees and holds her breath. God stands tall and makes things right, he saves all the wretched on earth. Instead of smoldering rage—God-praise! All that sputtering rage—now a garland for God!

Give groaning prisoners a hearing; pardon those on death row from their doom—you can do it! Give our jeering neighbors what they’ve got coming to them; let their God-taunts boomerang and knock them flat. Then we, your people, the ones you love and care for, will thank you over and over and over. We’ll tell everyone we meet how wonderful you are, how praiseworthy you are!

God, you’re my last chance of the day. I spend the night on my knees before you. Put me on your salvation agenda; take notes on the trouble I’m in. I’ve had my fill of trouble; I’m camped on the edge of hell. I’m written off as a lost cause, one more statistic, a hopeless case. Abandoned as already dead, one more body in a stack of corpses, And not so much as a gravestone— I’m a black hole in oblivion. You’ve dropped me into a bottomless pit, sunk me in a pitch-black abyss. I’m battered senseless by your rage, relentlessly pounded by your waves of anger. You turned my friends against me, made me horrible to them. I’m caught in a maze and can’t find my way out, blinded by tears of pain and frustration. I call to you, God; all day I call. I wring my hands, I plead for help. Are the dead a live audience for your miracles? Do ghosts ever join the choirs that praise you? Does your love make any difference in a graveyard? Is your faithful presence noticed in the corridors of hell? Are your marvelous wonders ever seen in the dark, your righteous ways noticed in the Land of No Memory?

God! Let the cosmos praise your wonderful ways, the choir of holy angels sing anthems to your faithful ways! Search high and low, scan skies and land, you’ll find nothing and no one quite like God. The holy angels are in awe before him; he looms immense and august over everyone around him. God-of-the-Angel-Armies, who is like you, powerful and faithful from every angle? You put the arrogant ocean in its place and calm its waves when they turn unruly. You gave that old hag Egypt the back of your hand, you brushed off your enemies with a flick of your wrist. You own the cosmos—you made everything in it, everything from atom to archangel. You positioned the North and South Poles; the mountains Tabor and Hermon sing duets to you. With your well-muscled arm and your grip of steel— nobody messes with you! The Right and Justice are the roots of your rule; Love and Truth are its fruits. Blessed are the people who know the passwords of praise, who shout on parade in the bright presence of God. Delighted, they dance all day long; they know who you are, what you do—they can’t keep it quiet! Your vibrant beauty has gotten inside us— you’ve been so good to us! We’re walking on air! All we are and have we owe to God, Holy God of Israel, our King!

Come, let’s shout praises to God, raise the roof for the Rock who saved us! Let’s march into his presence singing praises, lifting the rafters with our hymns!

So, God’s people, shout praise to God, Give thanks to our Holy God!

Shout your praises to God, everybody! Let loose and sing! Strike up the band!

Feature trumpets and big trombones, Fill the air with praises to King God.

God rules. On your toes, everybody! He rules from his angel throne—take notice! God looms majestic in Zion, He towers in splendor over all the big names. Great and terrible your beauty: let everyone praise you! Holy. Yes, holy.

Enter with the password: “Thank you!” Make yourselves at home, talking praise. Thank him. Worship him.

Write this down for the next generation so people not yet born will praise God: “God looked out from his high holy place; from heaven he surveyed the earth. He listened to the groans of the doomed, he opened the doors of their death cells.” Write it so the story can be told in Zion, so God’s praise will be sung in Jerusalem’s streets And wherever people gather together along with their rulers to worship him.

Hallelujah! Thank God! And why? Because he’s good, because his love lasts. But who on earth can do it— declaim God’s mighty acts, broadcast all his praises? You’re one happy man when you do what’s right, one happy woman when you form the habit of justice.

We’ve sinned a lot, both we and our parents; We’ve fallen short, hurt a lot of people. After our parents left Egypt, they took your wonders for granted, forgot your great and wonderful love. They were barely beyond the Red Sea when they defied the High God —the very place he saved them! —the place he revealed his amazing power! He rebuked the Red Sea so that it dried up on the spot —he paraded them right through! —no one so much as got wet feet! He saved them from a life of oppression, pried them loose from the grip of the enemy. Then the waters flowed back on their oppressors; there wasn’t a single survivor. Then they believed his words were true and broke out in songs of praise.

Save us, God, our God! Gather us back out of exile So we can give thanks to your holy name and join in the glory when you are praised! Blessed be God, Israel’s God! Bless now, bless always! Oh! Let everyone say Amen! Hallelujah!

Some of you set sail in big ships; you put to sea to do business in faraway ports. Out at sea you saw God in action, saw his breathtaking ways with the ocean: With a word he called up the wind— an ocean storm, towering waves! You shot high in the sky, then the bottom dropped out; your hearts were stuck in your throats. You were spun like a top, you reeled like a drunk, you didn’t know which end was up. Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He quieted the wind down to a whisper, put a muzzle on all the big waves. And you were so glad when the storm died down, and he led you safely back to harbor. So thank God for his marvelous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves. Lift high your praises when the people assemble, shout Hallelujah when the elders meet!

I’m thanking you, God, out in the streets, singing your praises in town and country. The deeper your love, the higher it goes; every cloud’s a flag to your faithfulness. Soar high in the skies, O God! Cover the whole earth with your glory! And for the sake of the one you love so much, reach down and help me—answer me!

My mouth’s full of great praise for God, I’m singing his hallelujahs surrounded by crowds, For he’s always at hand to take the side of the needy, to rescue a life from the unjust judge.

Hallelujah! You who serve God, praise God! Just to speak his name is praise! Just to remember God is a blessing— now and tomorrow and always. From east to west, from dawn to dusk, keep lifting all your praises to God!