Psalms 38:1-8

Take a deep breath, GOD; calm down— don’t be so hasty with your punishing rod. Your sharp-pointed arrows of rebuke draw blood; my backside stings from your discipline. I’ve lost twenty pounds in two months because of your accusation. My bones are brittle as dry sticks because of my sin. I’m swamped by my bad behavior, collapsed under an avalanche of guilt. The cuts in my flesh stink and grow maggots because I’ve lived so badly. And now I’m flat on my face feeling sorry for myself morning to night. All my insides are on fire, my body is a wreck. I’m on my last legs; I’ve had it— my life is a vomit of groans.