Psalm 84, revisited

Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 19, 2012

I love You, O my God!
My body and soul yearn to be near You
and to rejoice in You always.

I envy the swallow her muddy house
under the eaves of Your temple,
and am jealous
of the sparrow’s thistle-lined nest
in the oak beside Your altar,
for they and their young
can sing praises to You
at all hours of every day.

Those who rely on Your strength
are safe;
they have nothing to fear
as they travel along the pilgrims’ path.
They will find the arid valleys
filled with living water
and will ascend higher and higher,
until they see You, face to face.

God of us all, hear my prayer.
Keep us secure,
and watch carefully over
Your anointed one.

A single day in Your presence
is better than ten thousand anywhere else,
and I’d rather sit in the rain
outside Your back door
than recline on soft cushions
in the mansions of the wicked.

You are both sunlight and shade;
You bring joy and peace;
only good will come
to those who follow Your way.
O Lord of all Heaven,
happy are they
who put their trust in you!

The Psalm of the Wet Dog

Inspired by Psalm 63
Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 16, 2012

O God, my God;
I seek you anxiously,
like a rain-drenched dog
whining at the door.

Come on!
What is the hold-up?
Why so long?
Can’t you hear me?

I am abandoned,
cold and lonely,
on the outside
looking in.

I hope again
for days of glory;
warmed by the fire
snoozing in a cozy bed.

Ages pass
and my faith wavers,
I listen closely
to hear Your voice.

My heart grows weary
my head is heavy;
my eyes downcast,
I sigh in deep despair.

Then all at once
the whole world changes;
I see your face
and leap with joy.

I am admitted
into your presence,
my very soul
dances with delight.

“What’s all that noise?
Why all the uproar?
You silly creature,
I was right here, all along.”

You hadn’t really left me
it was just a moment,
but, in dog years,
it seemed a long, long time.

Such an adventure!
I’m glad it’s over;
now safe by Your side
I’m home and dry.

dampened spirits

Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 15, 2012

Do you wish to know the Creator of the cosmos, the Designer of the constellations who turns night into day, and back again? Do you seek the One who summons the tide and calls forth the storm clouds, who refreshes the earth with rain? The Lord is his name.
~ Amos 5:8

It’s raining here, Lord,
as You know ….
and You know
how dearly the earth
needs this rain,
and how grateful we are
for its cleansing
and refreshing
presence.

But You also know
that these wet streets
and storm-dimmed skies
bring some hearts to grief;
so close are they
to despair
that the obscuring
of the sun
seems too much to bear;

as if the faint hope
that once glimmered
distantly
was extinguished,
turning shapeless fears
into terrible imaginings
unconstrained
in the endless
evil darkness.

For them, this grayness
is oppressive;
the rain
falls like teardrops
and no amount
of promised future-flowers
can amend the sadness
that accompanies
these late-winter showers.

In Your mercy,
O Shelter from the storm,
dry their eyes
and heal their hurts,
turn the cloud-damp sky
into a holy font;
let the rain become
a baptism of grace
and restoration.

Let them see
and feel
and truly know
that the Light still shines;
that the sun, though hidden,
never goes away,
that Your love and compassion
surround and protect us
always.

At All Times

Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 14, 2012

I will bless the Holy One always, giving praise with my every breath;
I will delight in God’s greatness. This is my promise.
    ~ Psalm 34:1-2

It’s hard to take the psalmist’s words seriously. Vowing to give thanks to God always and everywhere? I wouldn’t dare make a promise like that.

What about when we’re stuck in traffic? Or doing our taxes? What if the toilet overflows, my car breaks down, or I get laid off from work? I can tell you from experience: praising God won’t be the first thing I’ll do.

And what about truly terrible events; when a child is sick, disaster strikes, or a loved one dies? Can anyone be expected to give thanks to God at times like those?

It’s easy to praise the Lord when life is good. We give a little shout of “hallelujah” from an apple-blossom scented garden, at a christening or a wedding; whenever a fond hope comes true. But when things go wrong …. we may whisper a plea for help, cry out in distress, or shout in anger or despair; rarely do we praise God.

But what if we did? What if we made it a practice to “at all times bless the Lord”?

It would require a great leap of faith to say “Thank you, God, for whatever is good in this,” during sickness and sadness and confusion. To speak words of praise in the midst of tragedy would affirm our belief that — somehow, in ways we cannot yet see — God works all things together for good.

And as we blessed the Holy One — always and everywhere — we, too, would be blessed. Our praise and prayers of thanksgiving would remind us to seek the good, the grace-filled, the holy and the hopeful wherever we are, even in our darkest nights. God’s mercy and love extend to the depths and breadth of the universe.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to You;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to You.
~ Psalm 139:11-12

Time for Change?

Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 13, 2012

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world;
whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
    ~ John 8:12

Living near the 37th parallel (north), my experience of the variation of light and dark between the seasons is minimal. But the time change — that single hour of “daylight saving” throws my life into disarray.

There is no “saving” — but loss, as I awaken befuddled by the early sunrise and stumble through my day encountering conflicting time zones wherever I go. My computer and my phone self-corrected at 2 a.m., but the oven clock is an hour late, as is the one on the alarm system by the door.

Unless it isn’t.

Wait a minute. What time is it, anyway?

I’m late for a morning meeting and hungry for lunch too soon. Inside my car it is still 11 a.m. I spend ten minutes cracking the code to reset the clock. Then realize I don’t know exactly what time it is. By the time I’ve pulled out my phone, the auto-electronics have returned to their original setting.

I spend another 5 minutes cursing technology and reestablishing contact with the car’s computer system.

For the rest of the day I regard all timepieces with suspicion. Have they been set right, or left, forgotten?

I decide to eat dinner whenever the mood strikes — clocks be damned. And why does the microwave want to know if the time is a.m. or p.m.?

What do all of these arbitrary numbers mean, anyway? How did they gain such power over my life?

Conforming to the time as established by the larger society makes life easier. Except for the bi-annual nuisance value, it does us no harm. But I wonder what other societal norms we accept, often unthinkingly.

What of the worship of wealth, the cult of beauty, the celebration of self-absorption, the delight in aggression, the scorn for the poor, the lack of pity for the lost and the helpless? Do we stand against these things, or allow them to shape our lives?

Perhaps it is time to reset our attitudes.

The Bi-Polar Psalmist?

Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 10, 2012

I waited patiently for the Lord, who finally answered my cries. He lifted me out of the dark and loathsome pit where I was stuck fast and set my feet upon a high cliff where I stood tall and secure.
    ~ Psalm 40:1-2

Reading this psalm today — after watching reports about the flight attendant who apparently suffered a psychotic break as a plane was preparing for departure — brings a new perspective. I hear the Scripture in a new and different way, and respond to the woman’s situation differently, as well.

The psalmist could be describing the experience of bipolar psychosis: the abrupt descents into bleak despair and equally sudden, unpredictable, soaring highs.

Modern pharmaceuticals can treat this illness, of course, and early reports suggest the American Airlines employee was “off her meds.” The medication evens out the ups and downs, allowing the patient’s life to travel along on an even keel.

But those who’ve experienced the high — the joys and laughter and boundless energy and sense of empowerment and intellectual brilliance … well, if you felt like that, would you ever want to come down from “the mountaintop”? And if regaining that enthusiasm and happiness was as easy as not taking some pills for a few days…..

It wasn’t right, but it is understandable. Who, amid these troubled times, wouldn’t want to feel cheery, optimistic, and unstoppable? But then the energy overmasters the mind and, like a nuclear meltdown, it goes out of control.

There have been many nasty comments directed at the passengers who giggled and joked among themselves as the plane returned to the terminal. But to my ears their laughter was the sound of relief. No one was amused. No one was gloating at another’s suffering.

We laugh, lest we cry. Humor is a normal human response to tension and terror. Our jokes cut our fears down to a manageable size; we mock what we’d like to ignore.

In her madness the woman was driven to admit what we, in our well-adjusted silence, would never say. She spoke of fears of aircraft safety and of job loss, of the constant dis-ease in our land since 9/11, of being frightened and helpless and out of control. Like the “crazy” ancient prophets, she brought out into the open the issues no one wants to face.

We live in fearful times. And we are Christians. Our faith should be strong enough to confront the terrors, to admit the troubles, and to seek to heal, to bless, and to change what is to what may yet be. A world shaped by compassion, love, peace, and understanding: it’s not a crazy dream — it’s the Holy Kingdom we’ve been called to build.

in every season

reflections on Psalm 74
Deborah Beach Giordano
© March 9, 2012

The day belongs to You, O God,
as well as the night;
the sun and the moon belong to you.
You established the ends of the earth;
both summer and winter
are in Your hands.
    ~ Psalm 74:16-17

It is easy to claim the beauties of Spring for God: blue skies and baby birds, trees fluttering with blossoms of delicate lace, gardens of white jonquils and sunlit daffodils, hillsides awash in brilliant wildflowers… Divine fingerprints are everywhere.

Summertime, too, has its wonders and delights: leaf-bedecked trees, fragrant roses and sweet oranges, porches draped with wisteria, and the songs of turtledoves. Surely God is in this place.

In the autumn as the chill winds rise, even then we see the Lord: the magic of the changing leaves, migrating geese, and St. Michael’s late-blooming flowers.

But then winter casts its spell of icy mists, dark clouds and lingering dark. Freezing winds and fierce storms wash the color from the earth, erasing every trace of past joys like forgotten dreams.

How do we praise you, O Beloved, when it feels as if You’ve fled — when those we know and love are mired deep within winter’s snow?

Let us find You, Gracious Savior, in the depths, wherever we are; comfort our spirits and warm our hearts, give us faith to believe where we have not yet seen, sustain our hope in that new Life we do not yet know.

Amen.