43 1Clear my name, God; stick up for me against these loveless, immoral people. Get me out of here, away from these lying degenerates. 2I counted on you, God. Why did you walk out on me? Why am I pacing the floor, wringing my hands over these outrageous people? 3Give me your lantern and compass, give me a map, So I can find my way to the sacred mountain, to the place of your presence, 4To enter the place of worship, meet my exuberant God, Sing my thanks with a harp, magnificent God, my God. 5Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I’ll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He’s my God.
The Message® / © 2002 Eugene H. Peterson About