The following is an expression of my experience of meditating on Psalms 1-6 over the past couple weeks. I don't want to call it a Psalm, but it is a composed poem of a prayer that might be helpful for God's people. I hope to compose more throughout my journey. Whether labeled a poem or a prayer, I'll simply number them for now and see what comes of it.
I know these words, but this world is foreign.
Reading, reciting, nodding along.
Phrase by phrase, I have comfort in the familiarity.
The vocabulary, the shapes on my lips and tongue,
The known sounds.
These all deceive me.
I don’t know this place.
I’m confronted and confused
Should I read beyond the words and see the world.
Embodied conversation with God
with postures and specified locations
and countless words to describe real words,
words, spoken to verbalize
with my mouth
and vocal cords
those prayers that have hid
and try to hide still
safely in my heart, unspoken?
A God who gets angry, without my permission
And has every right and intention to act on it?
Who graciously promises
And wrathfully threatens
With the same word?
The expectation of inner righteousness?
A beyond-me-morality dictating my choices?
The unseen spiritual realm ruling over all earthly powers?
Including my own.
Running scared to some refuge,
Praying to find an open door of shelter like an actual refugee?
Head hitting the pillow and leaving all cares behind, peace.
Waking refreshed and watched over, peace.
Not an experienced peace,
But a promised one
And thereby an enacted and given one.
Found in the words;
Rather, in the space between the words:
Between “real” and “experienced.”
Not a peace seen with the eyes,
But a peace heard with the ears
All the way to the heart.
A heard and promised peace
From the One who has heard
Who will reign
Who has answered
For the sake of His steadfast love.
Speaking, praying, sobbing, meditating, listening, delighting.
Wandering and wondering.
On the path, by the river.