Psalm 88 -- Depression

I cry out day and night for help—
   Hoping for something—relief? an answer?
I’m full of troubles, I feel half-dead.
  I’m in the pits—
Weak, depressed, anxious, miserable.

Did You put me here? Why?
   What did I do?
Are You angry?
  Am I just not good enough?
Did you take my friends away?
  call the cops?
This is going to kill me.

And, you know, I’m not much use to the world
  if I’m dead. I
can’t be Your hands or do Your work
   in this state.
And yet—if this is Your darkness,
  I will bear it.
Keep my heart open
  and my hands working—anyway.


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