I am feeding on words of truth in the form of psalm, hymn, prayer and poem:
O Lord...answer us when we call. -- Psalm 20:9
My eyes are fixed on you, O my Strength; for you, O God, are my stronghold. -- Psalm 59:10
(reminded to me by my friend David): If the Lord had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence./ When I thought "my foot slips," your steadfast love, oh Lord, held me up. / When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul. -- Psalm 94:17-19
(reminded to me by my friend Nancy): Psalm 73
Public Domain. Words: Isaac Watts. Music: William Croft.1. O God, our help in ages past,Our hope for years to come,Our shelter from the stormy blast,And our eternal home!2. Beneath the shadow of Thy throneThy saints have dwelt secure;Sufficient is Thine arm alone,And our defense is sure.3. Before the hills in order stood,Or earth received her frame,From everlasting Thou art God,To endless years the same.4. Thy word commands our flesh to dust:“Return, ye sons of men!”All nations rose from earth at firstAnd turn to earth again.5. A thousand ages in Thy sightAre like an evening gone;Short as the watch that ends the nightBefore the rising sun.6. O God our help in ages past,Our hope for years to come,Be Thou our guard while troubles last,And our eternal home
Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me in safety to this new day: Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen. -- from The Divine Hours: Prayers for Springtime
Voice (I wrote last summer):
I must have one. I'm pretty sure God
did not forget.
What I can't figure out is the sound
and shape of it.
Soft and flowing like a warmly-lit
clipped and spiky like a queen
Perhaps it's squashed and sullen
like a cuss.
Or hollow and pleasant like a bank teller
or a receptionist.
I'd like to be able to curse like a
Prophetess and judge like a
I'd like to whisper like a
Lover and sing like a
Mostly, I'd like to know the
Voice when it comes up from
my chest and over my tongue.
I'd like to be able to recognize it as
Connected to the truth stitched
into the core of me.
I am so homesick for the taste of it.
I've forgotten what it
I recently purchased this print through The Working Proof:
My Secret Self/At Rest