Psalm 41:7-9

The Message

^4-7 I said, “God, be gracious!
    Put me together again—
    my sins have torn me to pieces.”
My enemies are wishing the worst for me;
    they make bets on what day I will die.
If someone comes to see me,
    he mouths empty platitudes,
All the while gathering gossip about me
    to entertain the street-corner crowd.
These “friends” who hate me
    whisper slanders all over town.
They form committees
    to plan misery for me.

^8-9 The rumor goes out, “He’s got some dirty,
    deadly disease. The doctors
    have given up on him.”
Even my best friend, the one I always told everything
    —he ate meals at my house all the time!—
    has bitten my hand.