1-3A white-tailed deer drinksfrom the creek;I want to drink God,deep draughts of God.I’m thirsty for God-alive.I wonder, “Will I ever make it—arrive and drink in God’s presence?”I’m on a diet of tears—tears for breakfast, tears for supper.All day longpeople knock at my door,Pestering,“Where is this God of yours?”

Read Psalm 42

1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 Eugene H. Peterson by NavPress Publishing