In this very short season of Advent, amidst all the preparations for Christmas, some passages to help us keep things in perspective as we wait for the coming of the King:
 I said, "I will guard my ways,
that I may not sin with my tongue;
I will bridle my mouth,
so long as the wicked are in my presence."
 I was dumb and silent;
I held my peace to no avail;
my distress grew worse,
 my heart became hot within me.
As I mused, the fire burned;
then I spoke with my tongue:
 "Lord, let me know my end,
and what is the measure f my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is!
 Behold, Thou hast made my days a few
and my lifetime is as nothing in Thy
Surely every man stands as a mere
 Surely man goes about as a shadow!
Surely for nought are they in turmoil;
man heaps up, and knows not who
 And now, Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in Thee.
 Deliver me from all my transgressions.
Make me not the scorn of the fool!
 I am dumb, I do not open my mouth;
for it is Thou who hast done it.
 Remove Thy stroke from me;
I am spent by the blows of Thy Hand.
 When Thou dost chasten man
with rebukes for sin,
Thou dost consume like a moth what is
dear to him;
surely every man is a mere breath!
 "Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry;
hold not Thy peace at my tears!
For I am Thy passing guest,
a sojourner, like all my fathers.
Look away from me, that I may know
before I depart and be no more!"
 As a hart longs
for flowing streams,
so longs my soul
for Thee, My God,
 My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and behold
the face of God?
 My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
 These things I remember,
as I pour out my soul;
how I went with the throng;
and led them in procession to the
house of God,
with glad shouts and songs of
a multitude keeping festival.
 Why are you cast down, O my souo,
and why are you disquieted
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.
My soul is cast down within me,
therefore I remember Thee
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
 Deep calls to deep
at the thunder of Thy cataracts;
all Thy waves and Thy billows
have gone over me.
 By day the Lord commands His
steadfast love; and at night His song
is within me, a prayer to the God of
 I say to God, my rock:
"Why hast Thou forgotten me?
Why go I mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?"
 As with a deadly wound in my body,
my adversaries taunt me, while they say
to me continually, "Where is your God?"
 Why are you cast down, O my soul;
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise
him, my help and my God.