Psalm 30

A Psalm and Song at the dedication of the house of David.

1 I will extol thee, O Lord; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.2 O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.3 O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.4 Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.s5 For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.sss

6 And in my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved.7 Lord, by thy favour thou hast made my mountain to stand strong: thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled.s8 I cried to thee, O Lord; and unto the Lord I made supplication.9 What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth?10 Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me: Lord, be thou my helper.11 Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness;12 To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks unto thee for ever.s

Psalm 30

A David Psalm

1 I give you all the credit, God— you got me out of that mess, you didn't let my foes gloat.
2-3 God, my God, I yelled for help and you put me together. God, you pulled me out of the grave, gave me another chance at life when I was down-and-out.
4-5 All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God! Thank him to his face! He gets angry once in a while, but across a lifetime there is only love. The nights of crying your eyes out give way to days of laughter.
6-7 When things were going great I crowed, "I've got it made. I'm God's favorite. He made me king of the mountain." Then you looked the other way and I fell to pieces.
8-10 I called out to you, God; I laid my case before you: "Can you sell me for a profit when I'm dead? auction me off at a cemetery yard sale? When I'm 'dust to dust' my songs and stories of you won't sell. So listen! and be kind! Help me out of this!"
11-12 You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers. I'm about to burst with song; I can't keep quiet about you. God, my God, I can't thank you enough.