Psalm 41 Poem by Justin Reamer

Happy the man who cares for the poor and the weak:
if disaster strikes, Yahweh will come to his help.
Yahweh will guard him, give him life and happiness in the land;
ah, do not let his enemies treat him as they please!
Yahweh will be his comfort on his bed of sickness;
most carefully do you make his bed when he is sick.

I for my part said, 'Yahweh, take pity on me!
Cure me, for I have sinned against You.'
My enemies say of me with malice,
'How long before he dies and his name perishes? '
They visit me, their hearts full of spite,
they offer hollow comfort, and go out to spread the news.

All who hate me whisper to each other about me,
reckoning I deserve the misery I suffer,
'This sickness is fatal that has overtaken him,
he is down at last, he will never get up again.'
Even my closest and most trusted friend,
who shared my table, rebels against me.

But, Yahweh, take pity on me!
Raise me up, and I will pay them back;
and by this I shall know that I enjoy Your favour,
if my enemy fails to triumph over me;
and I, whom You uphold, go unscathed,
set by You in Your Presence for ever.

Blessed be Yahweh, the God of Israel,
from all eternity and for ever!
Amen. Amen!