Let Us Then

Henry's words have sunk down deep. Ever since I first read his Psalm of Life last winter, I've been stewing with the last stanza-- with the idea of working and watching; toiling AND taking time to sit.

A real tension exists for me, between taking grasp of my narrative and letting myself be worked into it. I love this idea of being able to be both active and idle before the Lord. We are to be participants in our own lives, while maintaining the humility to know that we are not our Maker.

Among Young Lifers in Athens, it was considered a goal to become BOTH/AND, rather than EITHER/OR people. We talked about going deep and wide in relationships with kids. One didn't have to be sacrificed for the sake of the other.

We also talked for years about prayer. "Prayer isn't preparation for the battle," Bart would say. "Prayer IS the battle."

Likewise, James chapter 4, verse 10 of the Message reads:

Get down on your knees before the Master. It's the only way you'll get on your feet.

I printed the words pictured above today as a lasting reminder to aim for the perfect blend of taking steps while trusting.

Let us, then, be up and doing/With a heart for any fate; /Still achieving, still pursuing, /Learn to labor and to wait.

Weather: Pristine.

What I'm listening to: "A Traveller Dreams of Home" by Birmingham's own The Great Book of John.

What I'm reading: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

What I'm working on: The misadventures of Little Liza -- a line of paper doll greeting cards.