At 8:50 the alarm goes off. It’s time to grab your things, run to the bus stop to catch the 20.
“May integrity and uprightness preserve me…”
I put my headphones on, listening to a morning playlist while I find my way to my usual seat. It will take 25 minutes to get to language school,and the first 10 are on the bus… perfect morning prayer time.
“I wash my hands in innocence”
You open up your Bible app, and make your way to the next Psalm… they help you pray in the mornings, because some times in life need some extra help.
“I have trusted in the Lord without wavering. Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and my mind. For your steadfast love is before my eyes, and I walk in your faithfulness.”
And time after time, you read these words, becoming increasingly aware that there are two sides to these psalms.
“Do not drag me off with the wicked… who speak peace with their neighbors while evil is in their hearts.”
I read the words of the poet, and know that deep inside I am more like his enemy than him.
“Give to them according to their work and according to the evil of their deeds; give to them according to the work of their hands; render them their due reward.”
I read these words, and know that the consequences he prays for others are too much for me to deal with. These weighty condemnations, these please for justice, are too heavy.
“He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive the blessing from the Lord…”
I read these words, and know that the standards for blessing are too great for me. Innocence? Integrity? Clean hands, pure heart, and a mouth that speaks truth? On my best days, I don’t know if I am all of that.
The good things of these prayers seem so far away, when you’re on the other side of the psalm. It just takes a few honest moments of reading to realize that is where I am. My prayers don’t come from a lofty position with the righteous. My thoughts don’t come from a school of innocence. My shoes are worn and covered in mud.
The bus keeps going, and somewhere between Brückerstraße and the Hauptbahnhof you realize that you are praying the prayers anyway. It’s somewhere deep in your heart, you hear the resonance of the words. You are not the Innocent, and yet these words are somehow meant for you.
And it comes in the whisper again, that “Grace” thing. Because you know you’re just what you are, and that somehow it’s ok. Somehow those lofty words ground you in a story that is deep and wide and hard to understand. You have a place, even if it’s in the negative space on the other side of the words. And as you stumble on the other side, you have moments where you get to surface. You find there are still prayers for people on the way too.
“Oh, save your people… Be their shepherd and carry them forever.”
Still Wandering,
Tony