I figured the best way to share what's been going on in my life is to just share excerpts from my prayers and reflections with you. And to just dive into it.
This is an excerpt/summary of an imaginative contemplation exercise I did reflecting on Psalm 23 a couple of months ago. This won't be coherent. But it's midnight and I can't sleep. So here goes.
Psalm 23:
The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me by still waters.
Images of an idyllic meadow. I'm curled up under a tree. Still waters - stagnant? My mind supplies a brook. An a rock near me the shepherd sits. Strong, watchful. Safe.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness, for His name's sake.
He restores my soul. He restores my soul. He restores my soul. It has captured my thoughts.
He restores my soul. There is no condemnation here. Merely acknowledgement that my soul needs restoring. Assurance that He will do it.
He restores my soul. Like the angel who comes to Elijah, when he is wanting to die. Who feeds him and lets him sleep, waiting patiently, until Elijah is ready.
He restores my soul.
Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
I will fear no evil,
For your rod and your staff,
They comfort me.
I approach the Valley. The Valley of the Shadow of Death - the Valley of the Shadow of the Consequence of Sin. It is dark. The mountains are steep and sinister. Death seems written into it's every line. I hear it in the sliding of the rocks. I smell it in the rot of the plants.
The Valley is dark.
I see no light. No way out.
My muscles freeze. Then tremble. The only sound I hear is my gulp.
I step back.
Bump.
There's something solid behind me.
I turn. It is the Shepherd. My solid, safe Shepherd.
I want to shake my head. Scream. Run away. Tell Him I don't want to go in there.
He smiles. He knows.
He takes my hand. "It's OK. I'm here."
You prepare a table before me
In the presence of my enemies
We are in the Valley. He stops me. The Enemies (who are they???), they prowl around. Snarling, snapping, snatching. He lays down a rug. He spreads out food. It is simple. It is a place of refuge and security. Right here, right now, it is safe. Though the Enemies continue to circle. They are ready, waiting, waiting. Ready to pounce and devour. He will not let them touch me.
You anoint my head with oil,
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Here my heart trembles. I feel anger and hurt and bewilderment. What goodness? What mercy? Where was it when my school fellow abused me? Where was it when I was forced to move country? Where was it when my best friend betrayed me? Was the man who did not respect me, yet claimed to love me, a goodness? Where is this acclaimed goodness now, as I struggle with months of chronic illness? Where was it when Aleppo was being bombed? Goodness and mercy follow me? It feels like it is pain and suffering that has stalked me life. Controlled it. Destroyed it piece by piece.
My heart yearns to know the truth, to feel the truth that I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. But all I can feel, all I can see, is the unfairness I have experienced. The injustice I have faced. The hurt that I feel.
And I am alone. I feel completely and utterly alone. The Enemy snaps. My heart bleeds.
