Psalm 77

New Coverdale Version

I will cry unto God with my voice; * even unto God will I cry with my voice, and he shall hearken unto me.

In the time of my trouble I sought the Lord; * my hands were stretched out in the night without rest; my soul refused comfort.

When I think upon God, I groan; * when I ponder, my spirit grows faint.

You hold my eyelids open; * I am so troubled that I cannot speak.

I consider the days of old; * I call to remembrance the years that are past.

In the night I commune with my own heart; * I meditate and search my spirit.

Will the Lord cast me off for ever, * and will he no more show his favor?

Is his mercy gone for ever, * and has his promise come utterly to an end for evermore?

Has God forgotten to be gracious, * and will he withhold his loving-kindness in displeasure?

And I said, “Has his right hand become weak? * Has the hand of the Most High lost its strength?”

I will remember the works of the Lord, * and call to mind your wonders of old time.

I will think also of all your works, * and my talk shall be of your deeds.

Your way, O God, is holy; * who is so great a God as our God?

You are the God who does wonders, * and have declared your power among the peoples.

You have mightily delivered your people, * even the sons of Jacob and Joseph.

The waters saw you, O God; the waters saw you and were afraid; * the depths also were troubled.

The clouds poured out water, the skies thundered, * and your arrows flashed on every side.

The voice of your thunder was heard in the whirlwind; the lightning lit up the world; * the earth was moved and shook.

Your way was in the sea, and your paths in the great waters, * yet your footsteps were not seen.

You led your people like sheep * by the hand of Moses and Aaron.