Isaiah 38:9-22 - Hezekiah's Poem Of Praise
9 A poem by Hezekiah king of Judah after he had been sick and had recovered from his illness:
10
I must go to the gates of Sheol;
I am deprived of the rest of my years.
the Lord in the land of the living;
I will not look on humanity any longer
with the inhabitants of what is passing away.
like a shepherd’s tent.
I have rolled up my life like a weaver;
He cuts me off from the loom.
You make an end of me from day until night.
He will break all my bones like a lion;
You make an end of me day and night.
I moan like a dove.
My eyes grow weak looking upward.
Lord, I am oppressed; support me.
15
He has spoken to me,
and He Himself has done it.
I walk along slowly all my years
because of the bitterness of my soul,
and in all of them is the life of my spirit as well;
You have restored me to health
and let me live.
that I had such great bitterness;
but Your love has delivered me
from the Pit of destruction,
for You have thrown all my sins behind Your back.
Death cannot praise You.
Those who go down to the Pit
cannot hope for Your faithfulness.
as I do today;
a father will make Your faithfulness known to children.
we will play stringed instruments
all the days of our lives
at the house of the Lord.
21 Now Isaiah