I’m tired this week. It’s been a tough go. I find that when I’m tired I can say things I don’t mean, or less nicely than I mean. So I invite you to sit with me as I ponder my favorite psalm. Thanks to Fr Roland Murphy, the towering Carmelite, for whose class I had to do a Psalm journal, lo these many years ago. It was a gift then. It is a gift now.
Psalm 131
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up,
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child at its mother’s breast.
Like a weaned child,
O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time on and for evermore.
(NRSV with a Murphy slant)
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