Friday, January 31, 2014

Time to Reflect on the New Year

It's the last day of January already! Here, it's cold and snowy, as
it is just about everywhere. The Flatirons outside my window are
shrouded in fog and rime clings thickly to the trees. Did you make
any resolutions thirty-one days ago? Did you resolve to be kinder and
more patient or to eat healthier or not to spend money you don't
have? I resolved to not resolve, not to make self-imposed rules I
couldn't keep. I decided to read and pray the Psalms most days, copy
a page or two for my new writing project when I could, and to let my
hair grow to my knees so when summer finally comes, I'll have a long
gray ponytail and become a true Boulderite! I like the no rule part
best. I'll probably get my hair cut tomorrow.

Let's face it...living is a struggle. Worries and problems abound in
everyones life. Psalm 16:8 says: I know the Lord is always with me.
I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me. See? I'm only on
Psalm 16! Last year I would have thought I had to be on Psalm
31...one for each day of the month. But this year I'm going slower,
savoring the words without my own rules to drive me crazy. Psalm
16:11 says: Show me the way of life and grant me the joy of your
presence. Selah!

Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Lord is the shade on your right hand

This morning the above words from Psalm 121 fairly leapt out at me, the image so clear that I glanced immediately to my right to see the shade; I almost thought I could.  Often what I read in the morning is gone by mid-day, but now, three hours later, I am still thinking, seeing, breathing the certainty that the Psalmist put those words down for me, for me.

If my God is shading me, he is not very far away at all.  In fact, he is right here beside me, ready to catch me if I fall, ready to protect me, ready to give me comfort, ready, with the touch of his hand, to keep me from saying something hurtful.  His presence here, with me, for always.  It’s another of those thin places in my day:  when the reality of the limitless nudges, even pushes over on its heels, my own flawed vision of the same.  Move over, child: here comes the actual, the powerful, the loving, the eternal.


This is Sunday:  don’t you need a little God-breathed thin place?