Where can I go to hide from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I take my rest in the netherworld, you are also there.
You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully made; awesome are your works, as I know very well.
Even though the fig tree does not blossom and there is no fruit on the vines, even though the olive crop will fail and the orchards will yield no food, even though the flock is cut off from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls, I will continue to rejoice in the Lord, and exult in the God of my salvation.