My eyes grow dim with grief. I call to You daily, O LORD; I spread out my hands to You.
As for you, if you direct your heart and lift up your hands to Him,
Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I call to You all day long.
My heart pounds, my strength fails, and even the light of my eyes has faded.
I stretch out my hands to You; my soul thirsts for You like a parched land. Selah
My tears have been my food both day and night, while men ask me all day long, “Where is your God?”
My friends are my scoffers as my eyes pour out tears to God.
A song. A Psalm of the sons of Korah. For the choirmaster. According to Mahalath Leannoth. A Maskil of Heman the Ezrahit
My eyes fail from grief; they grow dim because of all my foes.
Jesus wept.
For I have eaten ashes like bread and mixed my drink with tears
Envoys will arrive from Egypt; Cush will stretch out her hands to God.
Morning, noon, and night, I cry out in distress, and He hears my voice.
Then the word of the LORD came to me, saying,
Streams of tears flow from my eyes over the destruction of the daughter of my people.
My eyes have grown dim with grief, and my whole body is but a shadow.
If we had forgotten the name of our God or spread out our hands to a foreign god,