You know what I long for, Lord; you hear my every sigh.
Lord, you know the hopes of the helpless. Surely you will hear their cries and comfort them.
to hear the groans of the prisoners, to release those condemned to die.
Because of my groaning, I am reduced to skin and bones.
I am worn out from sobbing. All night I flood my bed with weeping, drenching it with my tears.
“How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.”
We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long to put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing.
