Psalm 63 - One A Week Psalm Project
Psalm 63
14th – 20th April 2020
This week (I blame the slight cold I had) I managed to write out last weeks Psalms onto this week’s page. Not in the little side book I practice in but in the proper book. I switched the image and words.
This Psalm reminded me to pray at nights when I could not sleep (v6).
I wrote a lot about prayer this week.
I’m not sure I prayed as much as I wrote about it.
I’m still not sure what I think about what I wrote about it (but I probably should re-visit it).
Life
At each stage of life I have been through so far,
I have been thoroughly surprised at what has happened, how I feel about it and how I respond. Nothing is ever as it seems. Nothing has ever really happened as planned or expected. Nothing is ever ‘simply’ life; it has also been annoyingly, surprisingly, underwhelmingly and overwhelmingly not what I have ever planned for or expected. But still life, nonetheless.
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Reflecting back on the Psalm writing – it’s actually really interesting to notice my handwriting. I do not, by any stretch of the imagination, have the neatest penship, and I write large and free in order to keep up with my thoughts and not grip the pen too hard, so it’s large and messy and a whole lotta scrawl if I’m not careful. It is interesting to look back and see it as I think you can track how I am feeling by largeness and messiness of it. The neater, the more capable I feel.
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Pain
The indescribably relief of when
pain suddenly releases you.
The sweetness of the air,
the letting go of physical tension and mental anguish.
In moments where it decreases, and your body can, just for a moment
remember the pain
but no longer feel it, is the most amazing moment of
nothing,
of
relief
of release.
But that relief is difficult to maintain the memory of.
The body forgets the pain,
thankfully,
but in contrast,
the body no longer revels in the joy of the lack of pain and
just is.
‘Just is’ is wonderful
but that moment of memory of pain
and the experience of release
is the sweetest and freshest water ever tasted.
May we not feel pain,
but may we encourage ourselves to remember
back to that moment of release
so that we might allow and accept those whose present is
still the pain.
.
.