Sometimes I get stuck on a Psalm.
I spend the first hour of my day in prayer and spiritual reading. I’ve tried different approaches to this time. I’ve tried following the monastic schedule of prayers for each day. I’ve tried praying one Psalm per day, faithfully working my way through the Psalter, one prayer after another. I’ve tried following different collections of prayers and meditations. Many of these approaches have yielded years of wonderful mornings.
In the last few years, however, I’ve slowed down my reading. I rarely read anything new, just the same old books over and over again, books that have shaped me deeply. The older I get the fewer words I need and the more fully I feel called to let the few words I choose penetrate more deeply into my interior world until they become part of my bones. So sometimes when I find a Psalm that really speaks to me, I just stay on that Psalm, praying it slowly every morning for many months on end. As I do this, the words become more familiar, personal, and draw me ever closer to God.
I love being old. When you are young, no one tells you how magical it is to grow old. Our culture prizes youth and we are led to believe that aging should be held off as long as possible. I have found aging to be liberating. I am free to be more fully myself. I have accomplished many of my goals. I have raised my family and watched them move on to live productive adult lives. And now, I have the luxury of slowing down. There is quiet in my soul, and I am filled with gratitude. So still. So spacious. So gracious. So beautiful.
I used to rush through words, through books, piling them on, as though words would lead me where I needed to go. Now I often put the words aside and just stare out my window at the tree I can see through it. I watch the tree change season to season. We are very close friends. This March morning, I can see new buds reflecting sunlight, dancing in the wind. A gift. Two tiny goldfinches sitting on the topmost fragile branches of the tree. The finches are changing too. Their brown winter coats yellowing, gradually adjusting to hope. There is so much waiting for us right where we are if we only slow down and open our eyes to see.
Bless the Lord, my soul; all my being, bless his Holy name!
Psalm 103:1
