Some days have the weight of death. The phone call comes, the doorbell rings, and your world feels like it is crumbling all around you. Nothing can be undone. You can't get around it. Things will not be the same.
On days like this, the Psalms you pray every day take on the new voice of your anguish, your sorrows, your painful, desperate hopes.
To you I lift up my eyes,
to you enthroned in the heavens.
Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy,
for we have had more than enough of contempt.
If the LORD had not been our our side . . .
Then would the raging waters
have gone right over us.
Those who trust in the LORD are like mount Zion,
which cannot be moved, but stands fast for ever.
Those who sowed with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed,
will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
in vain the watchman keeps his vigil.
Happy are all who fear the LORD . . .
You shall eat the fruit of your labor . . .
your children like olive shoots round about your table.
Br. Chad
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