You might not know this about me, but I’ve got a lot of old scriptures rattling around in my head.
I was raised in a world where –for better or worse — the Bible was Law. At the conservative private school I attended as a girl, I copied out long passages of scripture from memory, my girlish hand careful to pin down the exact placement of each comma and semicolon.
Go on: picture me now, a wide-eyed girl in a knee-length skirt and high-collared blouse, reciting whole chapters in front of the class. Hear the lyrical lilt of the Psalms wearing rhythmic grooves into my psyche, the way the breakers wear grooves on the shore.
Decades have passed since then, and still — the Good Book is so deeply etched into the folds of my brain that its words often sound like my own thoughts.
I couldn’t get rid of them now if I wanted to.
I don’t know why, but lately I keep circling back to a little snatch of words I’d all but forgotten: I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13).
The words are King David’s, but they might as well be mine.
And I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
In a different season, I might have seen that goodness as prosperity… Goals met. Accolades won. Or perhaps even some deep place of spiritual enlightenment
But now, I’m wondering if seeing the goodness of the Lord isn’t just a matter of noticing the dew on the clover:
The shadows playing on the sidewalk:
A sunset, washing gentle and gold over our Roanoke sky:
Maybe seeing the goodness of the Lord is a matter of faith: the simple, outrageous belief the smallest works of the Creator might be, in their way, holy…
And I’ll tell you: this life is brief, but for now I’m here, and I believe that all this beauty is mine to see.
And to share.
Here’s wishing you the same. ❤