I love him

And his music, too.

my husband did this

Psalm 001

At small group the past several weeks, we've taken a chunk out of discussion time to do something interactive/reflective with a psalm. Last night we actually had to write our own psalm. I was desparately hoping we wouldn't end up having time. I'd been yawning all night and had that familiar mental cloud that often comes over me whenever I'm asked to communicate with God. Even after all these years, I tend to feel like I don't know how. Or, I don't know if I know how.

But, I sat down with my pen and followed the minimal prompts for things like praise, thanksgiving, fears, etc. And before I knew it I was off and running. And it was easy. It was not, however, pretty, like David, or as it turns out, like everyone else in our group. I didn't see it coming, but we all ended up reading our psalms to each other. While it was profound and teary for several, and beautiful for most, I had the tears and some important transparency, but it was not beautiful. It was, well, whiney, a little. I guess that's what I've had for God lately. A fair bit of whining.

But, the important thing for this process was the realization that my life has not been beautiful in quite some time. And the difference between now and when I thought it was is not how badly I want that beauty, but where I'm willing to go to get it. And this is my resolution: I will look for it. I will look for the places God has made beautiful for my unique, 6'2", thoughtful, slouchy frame. For my mother's nose, my great-grandmother's fingers, and my grandfather's feet. And for my own restless spirit. And I will get off my ass to do it.