The Spirit-Filled Real

I said to myself, “I will watch what I do
    and not sin in what I say.
I will hold my tongue
    when the ungodly are around me.”
 But as I stood there in silence—
    not even speaking of good things—
    the turmoil within me grew worse.
 The more I thought about it,
    the hotter I got,
    igniting a fire of words:
 “Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.
    Remind me that my days are numbered—
    how fleeting my life is.
 You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.
    My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;
    at best, each of us is but a breath.” 

 We are merely moving shadows,
    and all our busy rushing ends in nothing.
We heap up wealth,
    not knowing who will spend it.
 And so, Lord, where do I put my hope?
    My only hope is in you.
Rescue me from my rebellion.
    Do not let fools mock me.
I am silent before you; I won’t say a word,
    for my punishment is from you.
 But please stop striking me!
    I am exhausted by the blows from your hand.
 When you discipline us for our sins,
    you consume like a moth what is precious to us.
    Each of us is but a breath. 

 Hear my prayer, O Lord!
    Listen to my cries for help!
    Don’t ignore my tears.
For I am your guest—
    a traveler passing through,
    as my ancestors were before me.
 Leave me alone so I can smile again
    before I am gone and exist no more.

 When my spirit faints within me,
    you know my way!
In the path where I walk
    they have hidden a trap for me.

Look to the right and see:
    there is none who takes notice of me;
no refuge remains to me;
    no one cares for my soul.

 I cry to you, O Lord;
    I say, “You are my refuge,
    my portion in the land of the living.”
Attend to my cry,
    for I am brought very low!
Deliver me from my persecutors,
    for they are too strong for me!
 Bring me out of prison,
    that I may give thanks to your name!
The righteous will surround me,
    for you will deal bountifully with me.