SUNDAY
.
3 Israel, put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.
.
In the cave of my dark days
I sometimes bear no hope
.
But still I hold on to a hope
For a hope to yet return
.
And there is a faint flicker
Of an old dancing drum
Somewhere deep within
.
And even when the light is bright on the statues they made
To celebrate my success
Still the sun is warming open fine cracks
Laying me down
As dust
.
But when I tumble
I will fall
Into the open arms
Of the loving God
SATURDAY
.
like a weaned child I am content.
.
My soul is made sclerotic
From fast eating
Arterial flow all slow
.
But to this broken place
Your manna falls
.
Tiny morsels
Mixed in milk
Are all I can hope to stomach
And even so I am blown full
Like a belching baby
.
I ask no more
It is enough
FRIDAY
.
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
.
The half-shadow you cast on my spirit
Is warm and soft
And I am left hollow from feasting
And ragged from all my richness
.
I am desperate-
Reaching out beyond these straws I grasped
Craving for the shape of you
Held in distant memory
.
Catch me in this simple thing
Called home
THURSDAY
.
2 But I have calmed and quieted myself,
.
Time is a claw in which I am squeezed
Each day hooked on a hundred demands
Each second hard wired to the current crisis
.
And in all the noise of it all
You are silent
Because you were not in the thunder
You were not in the lightning
.
You were not in my efficiency
You were not found in my effectiveness
.
You were waiting
In the stillness
For an end of the me
So the we could begin
(Easter island image from here.)
.
TUESDAY
…my eyes are not haughty;
.
I walk with a purposeful stride
And people shuffle in my wake
Swaying at my turbulence
.
Because nothing is impossible for this man of God
No peak will remain unclimbed
No valley unseeded
None of your puny walls can stand against me
.
Why then Lord God
Would you mine my path
With these stumbling stones?
I have spent some time preparing some meditations on Psalm 131 as part of our continuing Aoradh project to prepare some common meditations, which we then e-mail around our small community (along with others who have asked to be included in the circulation list- let me know if you would like to be included too.)
This next week I have been rediscovering my way into a favourite Psalm of David-
Psalm 131
A song of ascents.
Of David.
1 My heart is not proud, LORD,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.3 Israel, put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.(NIV)
I thought it might be good to post my contributions on this blog too, so here is the meditation for Monday-
This week we will use the words of one of the shortest and most tender Psalms of David.
David- the all conquering King of an ascendant Holy Nation, whose deeds in battle will be sung for a thousand years.
Whose beauty, talents and wild edge of passion make him the admiration of every man, every woman.
Standing before JHWH.
Consumed by his frail humanity.
Creaking on his feet of clay.
I started a new thing today.
I love the beginning of new adventures- the chance to allow new things to unfold.
This one involves a commitment to meet with my friend Paul on a regular basis, and spend some time doing some deliberately spiritual practices, and writing about them. The idea is that we take a few hours and walk into the wilderness, talk, think and meditate.
On a bench.
This was today’s bench, in the hills above Dunoon…
Today we used one of my favourite psalms-
1God, I’m not trying to rule the roost, I don’t want to be king of the mountain.
I haven’t meddled where I have no business
or fantasized grandiose plans.2 I’ve kept my feet on the ground,
I’ve cultivated a quiet heart.
Like a baby content in its mother’s arms,
my soul is a baby content.3 Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope.
Hope now; hope always!Psalm 131 (The Message)
As I reflect on these ancient words, I am concious of a soul that is not content, and a heart that is unquiet.
I am puzzled too as to what things David was writing about that were ‘too great’ for him (at least in the un massaged version.) He was a king after all- but perhaps a king all too aware of his failings.
And I wonder whether I really want to stop dreaming grandiose plans- it is part of who I am. I kind of believe that our dreams should lie just beyond our grasp- just outside our comfort zones…
But in all of this, I am so aware that I need to hold on to hope.
Hope for life lived in communion with good friends.
Hope for life that is rich and deep and saturated with the things of God.
Hope for life that measures it’s meaning not by a kind of success that rots the soul.
Hope for life that is life-giving to others.
And in awareness that in this life there are no guarantees- no easy short cuts. But there are moments when what has been grey can become saturated with new colour.
Like today, on this bench…
this fragile tent 
