A Psalm of Inner Change

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path.”

You show me where I am and where I am to go. 

Yesterday’s darkness is behind me.

If goodness and mercy follow me,

Then they must’ve been there while I was there, too.

Could I have made it out without them?

Is this what David meant when he said “You hem me in behind and before…”

… with your word? goodness? mercy?

You know my coming in and my going out, not just in this lifetime

but through states of consciousness and being

You have tethered me to your heart.

You’ve seen my evolution.

You ordained it.

You’ve caused me to be.

So, I know that I can come boldly before the throne and also go boldly therefrom unto.

In that boldness I left behind what I knew.  I pressed in to come to know.

Only to come to know that what I knew of the unknown was enough to cast doubt on almost anything I once believed of myself to be certain, rendering everything in existence external to myself a total mystery.

What I see I cannot trust.  I am blind. 

What I hear sounds false.  My ears are of no benefit. 

What I feel, I have not felt.  I am numb.

This cold shadow is not the place beneath your wing

Times like this I feel like I don’t know myself, and how can you trust who you don’t know?

You show me who I am.  Can I see it?

You speak your truth to me in my voice. Do I hear them?

I don’t know what my heart feels, but I know it’s not broken.

I am not broken.

You have caused me to be.  

The pieces of my life are coming together.

I do not recognize it.  I do not understand.

I recognize you, though.  I see you, though.

You are here in this space of unknowing.

I followed you here where the vision is not yet,

and you tell me the delay is needful for me.

This must be a time for faith.

I must believe I and my soul will be restored
in this place of still waters.

I must believe this inner hunger will be sated
at these pastures.  

This doesn’t feel like the promise.  I do not see the green.

I see you though. 

Perhaps goodness and mercy are also here.

Perhaps if I believe they will be seen.

Is this what Jesus meant when he told Thomas that blessed
are those who believe without seeing?

I search my heart and find your word.

It is a lamp for my feet.  It is a light for my path.

I read it to hear your words in my voice. My ears are opened.

Your word clears my vision.  My eyes are new.

My heart, once sickened by hope deferred, is comforted.

It is comforted not by added knowledge, but through remembrance.