A PSALM

I am happy to be in this place, 

loosened from the chains of rigid thinking 

and set free into the large, looming mystery of God.  

I am happy to have struggled so hard

to get to this place of healing, and for so long.  

I know now that the struggles are not in vain 

and that, in fact, mold me 

to a more compassionate self.  

Jesus, you did not come to this world 

to heal those who are well, 

but to those who are sick. 

Because the sick cannot, 

by the very nature of their sickness, 

take care of themselves.  

Because the depressed cannot,

by the very nature of their depression,

pull themselves up by their bootstraps.  

Because the poor,

by the very nature of their poverty,

have few options in a world that shuns them.

I am none of these at present.  

But I have been very sick at times, 

and walked with a friend through an illness

that lead to death...our prayers useless.  

I have been depressed many times, 

feeling a sadness and self-loathing 

that none who cared for me could ever understand.  

And I have felt trapped by low-income, 

and wondered how those who begin with deficits I did not-

born into poverty, ignorance and cultural hopelessness 

-ever overcome it all.

But mostly I have been molded by the struggle 

against feeling unworthy to God, 

planted there at an early age by authorities in my life 

who did not understand the nature of perfect love either.  

This lie, sometimes conscious, most times unconscious, 

bore within my soul a desperate longing, 

a sad and dark view, often unable to see light,

and left me impoverished of joy.

I praise God who did not leave my side in the struggle.  

Who sent me friends and teachers and books,

and movies and songs 

and allowed me to set aside 

all the groups and doctrines and beliefs for a time, 

so that in the end I could embrace the true Word 

and walk, Spirit hovering, down a narrow path of healing.  

Make me an instrument of your Peace...

Amen