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My eyes grow dim, weakened by this sickness;
    it is taking my strength from me.
Like a worn cloth, my hands are unfolded before You daily, O Eternal One.
10 Are You the miracle-worker for the dead?
    Will they rise from the dark shadows to worship You again?

[pause]

11 Will Your great love be proclaimed in the grave
    or Your faithfulness be remembered in whispers like mists throughout the place of ruin?[a]

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Footnotes

  1. 88:11 Hebrew, Abaddon

    my eyes(A) are dim with grief.

I call(B) to you, Lord, every day;
    I spread out my hands(C) to you.
10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
    Do their spirits rise up and praise you?(D)
11 Is your love declared in the grave,
    your faithfulness(E) in Destruction[a]?

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Footnotes

  1. Psalm 88:11 Hebrew Abaddon