You have wounded me with your arrows; you have struck me down.

I am drowning in the flood of my sins; they are a burden too heavy to bear.

I am bent over, I am crushed; I mourn all day long.

I am worn out and utterly crushed; my heart is troubled, and I groan with pain.

Don't punish me any more! I am about to die from your blows.

You punish our sins by your rebukes, and like a moth you destroy what we love. Indeed we are no more than a puff of wind!

The LORD punished the people of Ashdod severely and terrified them. He punished them and the people in the surrounding territory by causing them to have tumors.

When they saw what was happening, they said, "The God of Israel is punishing us and our god Dagon. We can't let the Covenant Box stay here any longer."

But after it arrived there, the LORD punished that city too and caused a great panic. He punished them with tumors which developed in all the people of the city, young and old alike.

So again they sent for all the Philistine kings and said, "Send the Covenant Box of Israel back to its own place, so that it won't kill us and our families." There was panic throughout the city because God was punishing them so severely.

Then watch it go; if it goes toward the town of Beth Shemesh, this means that it is the God of the Israelites who has sent this terrible disaster on us. But if it doesn't, then we will know that he did not send the plague; it was only a matter of chance."

I want someone to plead with God for me, as one pleads for a friend.

So you have no reason to fear me; I will not overpower you.

My throat is as dry as dust, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have left me for dead in the dust.

that grow and burst into bloom, then dry up and die in the evening.

We are destroyed by your anger; we are terrified by your fury.

My life is disappearing like smoke; my body is burning like fire.

I am beaten down like dry grass; I have lost my desire for food.

My skin has turned dark; I am burning with fever.

Now they lie unknown in the streets, their faces blackened in death; their skin, dry as wood, has shriveled on their bones.

Hunger has made us burn with fever until our skin is as hot as an oven.