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For the Chief Musician. For Jeduthun. A Psalm by David.

39 I said, “I will watch my ways, so that I don’t sin with my tongue.
    I will keep my mouth with a bridle while the wicked is before me.”
I was mute with silence.
    I held my peace, even from good.
    My sorrow was stirred.
My heart was hot within me.
    While I meditated, the fire burned.
I spoke with my tongue:
    “Yahweh, show me my end,
    what is the measure of my days.
    Let me know how frail I am.
Behold, you have made my days hand widths.
    My lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely every man stands as a breath.” Selah.
“Surely every man walks like a shadow.
    Surely they busy themselves in vain.
    He heaps up, and doesn’t know who shall gather.
Now, Lord, what do I wait for?
    My hope is in you.
Deliver me from all my transgressions.
    Don’t make me the reproach of the foolish.
I was mute.
    I didn’t open my mouth,
    because you did it.
10 Remove your scourge away from me.
    I am overcome by the blow of your hand.
11 When you rebuke and correct man for iniquity,
    you consume his wealth like a moth.
Surely every man is but a breath.” Selah.
12 “Hear my prayer, Yahweh, and give ear to my cry.
    Don’t be silent at my tears.
For I am a stranger with you,
    a foreigner, as all my fathers were.
13 Oh spare me, that I may recover strength,
    before I go away and exist no more.”

Psalm 39

For Jeduthun, the choir director: A psalm of David.

I said to myself, “I will watch what I do
    and not sin in what I say.
I will hold my tongue
    when the ungodly are around me.”
But as I stood there in silence—
    not even speaking of good things—
    the turmoil within me grew worse.
The more I thought about it,
    the hotter I got,
    igniting a fire of words:
Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.
    Remind me that my days are numbered—
    how fleeting my life is.
You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.
    My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;
    at best, each of us is but a breath.” Interlude

We are merely moving shadows,
    and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.
We heap up wealth,
    not knowing who will spend it.
And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?
    My only hope is in you.
Rescue me from my rebellion.
    Do not let fools mock me.
I am silent before you; I won’t say a word,
    for my punishment is from you.
10 But please stop striking me!
    I am exhausted by the blows from your hand.
11 When you discipline us for our sins,
    you consume like a moth what is precious to us.
    Each of us is but a breath. Interlude

12 Hear my prayer, O Lord!
    Listen to my cries for help!
    Don’t ignore my tears.
For I am your guest—
    a traveler passing through,
    as my ancestors were before me.
13 Leave me alone so I can smile again
    before I am gone and exist no more.