As I read the passage at Seward Park, I felt the cold wind over my skin. At first, I wanted to retreat back into my car; but knew I needed to be out in the sun, with the fresh air in my lungs, ducks waddling around me, and a mysterious something else was beckoning me to stay out on the cold park bench. I closed my eyes and told myself to slow down; to calm down. And I did slow down a bit, but there was something else inside me tugging. There was an uneasiness that would not let me go, to slowly and peacefully experience my lectio divina. So I decided to bring it along. I took in a few deep breaths and decided to bring that uneasiness with me to Psalm 139.
When I began reading the passage, I felt a wave of sadness sweep over me. The uneasiness inside, wanted to come out in tears. As I slowly read the passage aloud, hearing the sounds of the words in the environment floating around me, with the sound of the water lapping on the shore, ducks quacking, and the vibrations of the breeze against my ear, I felt like each word was trying to enter my heart through my ears. It was as if the Spirit was mixing the sounds of scripture and environment to make music for my soul.
As I listened to my own voice read the scriptures aloud, I felt a bit weird. I think it’s probably because I’ve always had a hard time listening to and accepting my own voice. To soak in and delight in the message that the Spirit may be bringing to me – through my very own voice – felt so unnerving. Does God really desire for me to hear my own voice and be convinced it has something good to speak when I’ve been so unsure of myself, when I’ve fooled myself so many times? Sure, I can talk about other things to other people. But to talk about things of myself to myself…I guess that takes some faith that Christ really dwells within as much as around.
So, it was in this mixture of my surroundings, my presence, and my uneasiness that the Spirit brought the words in Psalm 139:10, “even there your hand will guide me…” to the surface of my attention. I was reminded of the way God has moved with me in life, guiding me, as my character and identity has been, and is continuing to be, shaped. Reminded that all the times I’ve been broken and healed have been a part of what redemption is. The process of embracing my voice, my flaws, my strength, my creativity…those are all parts of God’s sanctification. I was reminded that the trajectory I move along is filled with heartache, abandonment, harm, and rupture; but at the same time is filled with happiness, relationship, healing, and repair.
I think that was why my uneasiness didn’t want to let me go. It needed to hear those words of the Spirit, to know that it existed because it was a part of God’s story in my life. Actually, I think it needed to know that I knew it existed because it was a part of God's story in my life. Then it said to me, “See! I told you I was there! I was there when you felt abandoned and worthless, but you wouldn’t acknowledge my presence. Well, here I am. Now you can take a good look at me. I am uneasiness. You are uneasy. And now that you’ve seen me, I want to tell you something. I come to tell you about things that aren’t so easy to accept. I bring grief. I’ve also been sent here to tell you that things shouldn’t always be so dismal. I’ve been told to tell you that love also awaits you. I’m your friend. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to get there, so let’s go there together. When we get there, I’ll let you spend time with love. I might even hang around a bit. When it’s the right time, I’ll come back and well talk about more things. We’ll walk on as friends. Oh, and don’t worry too much, God knows you and me very well. We have a good guide for the journey. Those hands will guide you and me to the places we need to be in the right time.” Then, my uneasiness came out in a few tears and smile.
When I began reading the passage, I felt a wave of sadness sweep over me. The uneasiness inside, wanted to come out in tears. As I slowly read the passage aloud, hearing the sounds of the words in the environment floating around me, with the sound of the water lapping on the shore, ducks quacking, and the vibrations of the breeze against my ear, I felt like each word was trying to enter my heart through my ears. It was as if the Spirit was mixing the sounds of scripture and environment to make music for my soul.
As I listened to my own voice read the scriptures aloud, I felt a bit weird. I think it’s probably because I’ve always had a hard time listening to and accepting my own voice. To soak in and delight in the message that the Spirit may be bringing to me – through my very own voice – felt so unnerving. Does God really desire for me to hear my own voice and be convinced it has something good to speak when I’ve been so unsure of myself, when I’ve fooled myself so many times? Sure, I can talk about other things to other people. But to talk about things of myself to myself…I guess that takes some faith that Christ really dwells within as much as around.
So, it was in this mixture of my surroundings, my presence, and my uneasiness that the Spirit brought the words in Psalm 139:10, “even there your hand will guide me…” to the surface of my attention. I was reminded of the way God has moved with me in life, guiding me, as my character and identity has been, and is continuing to be, shaped. Reminded that all the times I’ve been broken and healed have been a part of what redemption is. The process of embracing my voice, my flaws, my strength, my creativity…those are all parts of God’s sanctification. I was reminded that the trajectory I move along is filled with heartache, abandonment, harm, and rupture; but at the same time is filled with happiness, relationship, healing, and repair.
I think that was why my uneasiness didn’t want to let me go. It needed to hear those words of the Spirit, to know that it existed because it was a part of God’s story in my life. Actually, I think it needed to know that I knew it existed because it was a part of God's story in my life. Then it said to me, “See! I told you I was there! I was there when you felt abandoned and worthless, but you wouldn’t acknowledge my presence. Well, here I am. Now you can take a good look at me. I am uneasiness. You are uneasy. And now that you’ve seen me, I want to tell you something. I come to tell you about things that aren’t so easy to accept. I bring grief. I’ve also been sent here to tell you that things shouldn’t always be so dismal. I’ve been told to tell you that love also awaits you. I’m your friend. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to get there, so let’s go there together. When we get there, I’ll let you spend time with love. I might even hang around a bit. When it’s the right time, I’ll come back and well talk about more things. We’ll walk on as friends. Oh, and don’t worry too much, God knows you and me very well. We have a good guide for the journey. Those hands will guide you and me to the places we need to be in the right time.” Then, my uneasiness came out in a few tears and smile.
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