In The Shade

"She who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty." Psalm 91:1

I have chosen Psalm 91 as my next slow meditation.

For the past several months I have done something new (for me) with my first in the morning reflective time. I am writing out Scripture, verse by verse, first in Hebrew, then in Thai, then in English. This, in part, keeps my mind working on both of the "other" languages that I am so love-motivated to learn. But what I am also finding is a certain beauty in how long this takes, each morning in turn, but also how long I end up meditating on just one passage.

There's something calming and centering about taking the time.

The effect has been true since I started this practice in January, but is enhanced of course by the opportunity now to be here, in the safe and healing place that the cottage provides me. In fact, without anything pressing to follow - no meetings or sermon prep or strategy or agendas or difficult conversations or desperate, surprising situations - the slowness factor comes all the more into play. Just. Writing. And. Meditating. Beside still waters. That is all, right now.

I have chosen Psalm 91 because I will need it to bridge me home. Fourteen verses. I have but nine days left.

This morning as I sit here on the deck I am so not ready to entertain the thought. The harshness of the season I have just left behind (a few days ago, it seems, not the three plus weeks it's actually been) will not have been resolved in my absence. The real-time emergencies, the relentless press against values and philosophies and paradigms, the challenges to so much that I realize have becomes sacred cows, the heavy-burdened need for wisdom and discernment for even what I thought was going to be a simple, casual, safe conversation....it will all be there, waiting for me.

The temptation to pre-emptively problem solve and attempt to get a leg up on it all exerts its own kind of pressure. I must stand firm against it, here, now. For I have clearly and ever-so-gently been invited to simply receive the peace of Christ while I'm here, this through the encouragement of my spiritually wise Elders at Highview, and affirmed in my own times of listening since being away.

So Psalm 91 will serve as a reminder and a bridge. A bridge to take me home.

The shadow of the Almighty. The picture here is of protection from the heat of the sun (cf Psalm 121:5). Dwelling. Resting. Receiving.

A brooding sky gives way to sunrise. Seems fitting.
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