With my voice I cry to the Lord; with my voice I make supplication to the Lord.
I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him.
When my spirit is faint, you know my way. In the path where I walk they have hidden a trap for me.
Look on my right hand and see— there is no one who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for me.
I cry to you, O Lord; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”
Give heed to my cry, for I am brought very low. Save me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me.
Bring me out of prison, so that I may give thanks to your name. The righteous will surround me, for you will deal bountifully with me.
Another in the spirit of where I am as opposed to specifically what the psalm is saying. The Psalmist is obviously writing of real trials and persecutions but I am definitely not today. I am writing instead of the longing I had for a specific food that was finally satisfied tonight – southern BBQ. After a long day (but fun day) my spirit was faint and I was longing for what we had planned to do for dinner tonight. And Jim and Nick’s came to the rescue. A short rack of baby back ribs along with a Fat Tire ale. All is well.