I lift up my hands to you in prayer; like dry ground my soul is thirsty for you.
Put your heart right, Job. Reach out to God.
like a slave longing for cool shade; like a worker waiting to be paid.
Day and night I cry, and tears are my only food; all the time my enemies ask me, “Where is your God?”
If we had stopped worshiping our God and prayed to a foreign god,
O God, you are my God, and I long for you. My whole being desires you; like a dry, worn-out, and waterless land, my soul is thirsty for you.
How I want to be there! I long to be in the Lord's Temple. With my whole being I sing for joy to the living God.
Do you perform miracles for the dead? Do they rise up and praise you?
my eyes are weak from suffering. Lord, every day I call to you and lift my hands to you in prayer.
Moses said to him, “As soon as I go out of the city, I will lift up my hands in prayer to the Lord. The thunder will stop, and there will be no more hail, so that you may know that the earth belongs to the Lord.
the burning sand will become a lake, and dry land will be filled with springs. Where jackals used to live, marsh grass and reeds will grow.
On the last and most important day of the festival Jesus stood up and said in a loud voice, “Whoever is thirsty should come to me, and