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Psalm 69: A Complaint of a Sick Mom

For the director of music. To the tune of “Somebody Get Me A Doctor.” Of Abigail.

Save me, O God,
    for the sickness has come up to my head.
2 I sink into fuzzy headaches,
    where there is no breathing out of my nose.
    I have come into the deep waters;
    the floods engulf my nasal passages.
3 I am worn out calling for help;
    my throat is parched.
    My eyes throb, looking for my God.
Viruses assault me without reason
    outnumber the hairs of my head;
   many symptoms are my enemies without relief,
    them that seek to debilitate me.
   I am forced to rest
    when I have mouths to feed.

You, God, know my trials;
    my and my baby’s illnesses are not hidden from you.

Lord, the Lord Almighty,
    may those who hope in the flu shot
    not be disgraced because of me;
    God of Israel,
    may those who seek good health
    not fall within my sneezes’ range.
For I endure sleepless nights for my baby’s sake,
    and big dark circles cover my eyes.
I am short with my own family,
    I am like a grumpy gorilla to my own children;
for zeal for keeping house has abandoned me,
    and the weight of this work falls on no one.

10 When I rest and recuperate,
    I must endure getting nothing done;
11 when I wear yoga pants all day
    I envision people making sport of me.
12 Those who are in good health mock me,
    with their cheerful greetings in the morning.

13 But I pray to you, Lord,
    in the time of your favor;
    in your great love, O God,
    answer me with your sure healing.
14 Rescue me from the sneezes and watery eyes,
    do not let me sink into despair;
    deliver me from this exhaustion,
    from the deep waters of sleeplessness.
15 Do not let the baby’s cries engulf me
    or the dirty diapers overflow from the trashcan
    or the dishes overflow the sink.

16 Answer me, Lord, out of the goodness of your love;
    in your great mercy turn to me.
17 Do not hide your face from your servant;
    answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.
18 Come near and rescue me;
    deliver me from my symptoms.
19 You know how I am tired, sore and listless;
    all my weaknesses are before you.
20 This cold has broken my heart
    and has left me helpless;
    I looked for sympathy from the children, but there was none,
    for comforters, but Phil too fell ill.
21 Yet, the kids still complained about their dinners
    and gave me whining for my efforts.
22 May the dishes set before them become as Sriracha;
    may it become a retribution and a trap.
23 May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see the T.V.,
    and their voices not be piercing to my ears ever.

24 Pour out your wrath on germs, O Lord;
    let your fierce anger obliterate them.
25 May their moist environment be dried up;
    let the sun shine its ultraviolet rays into their homes.
26 For they persecute those you burden with too many tasks
    and capitalize upon the strains of motherhood.
27 Charge them with crabbiness upon crabbiness;
    do not let them share in your kingdom.
28 May they be blotted out of existence forever
    and not be listed with the righteous.

29 But as for me, afflicted and in pain—
    may your salvation, God, protect me.
30 I will praise God’s name in song
    and glorify him with thanksgiving.
31 This will please the Lord more than an organized home,
    more than a balanced meal plan with fruits and veggies.
32 The harried mothers will see and be glad—
    you who seek God, may your hearts live!
33 The Lord hears the infirmed
    and does not despise the desperate mother.
34 Let heaven and earth praise him,
    the seas and all that move in them,
35 for God will save our homes
    and get us caught up in all things that matter.
    Then visitors will be welcome there and feel at home;
36 the children of his servants will find comfort,
    and those who love his name will rest there.


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