Friday, February 15, 2013

What does "calmed and quieted my soul" look like?

When someone you love very much, on whom many lives are dependent, a woman who is a George Bailey spreading good in veins of all she serves around her, when she is sick with something deadly, how am I supposed to respond? I am a melancholic girl. I find comfort in words such as my sister-in-the-Lord Presvytera Elena gave this week: Satan wants to sift us like wheat. (Luke 22:31)

with tears, anguished groans, aches and moans from my soul

with repeatedly seeking the Psalms, singing the Psalter

Abbot Sergius at St. Tikhon's once rankled me when he said we should be careful what music we select. I was rebuked in love when I relistened to Waterdeep's "He Will Come" which says the music in her head has the lyrics she was taught. This week, I quilt together the snatches of Scripture my parents had us memorize. I live and die by these and hank God now that these are my lyrics because if this is how I anguish, how I squeeze out the pus and poison of fear and sorrow, then thank God for these words.

Beauty for Ashes, Oil of Joy for Mourning, A garment of praise for a spirit of heaviness
(Isaiah 61:3)

Oh, Israel, trust in the Lord, 
from this time forth, and forever more.
Psalm 131

A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; Isaiah 42:3

Once, my friend Frank said he was reading Isaiah while working the counter at the local movie theater. A woman walked in and it occurred to him to ask her if she felt like a bruised reed. And, yes. She did. Thank you. Stories poured out. I think he felt it was healing just to ask and let her confess that need for healing. That is how God of Mercy and Grace meets out justice. He heals. 

And this, on which I'm writing an essay about meditating. I think I prefer the sober translation of the KJV. Right now I have little heart for jigs.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. (Phil. 4:8)

So, for my girls, posted by my girl!

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