Advent III, Sunday – December 14
AM Psalm 63:1-8(9-11), 98; PM Psalm 103
Isaiah 13:6-13; Hebrews 12:18-29; John 3:22-30
Psalm 63:1-8(9-11)
1 O God, you are my God; eagerly I seek you; *
my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you,
as in a barren and dry land where there is no water.
2 Therefore I have gazed upon you in your holy place, *
that I might behold your power and your glory.
3 For your loving-kindness is better than life itself; *
my lips shall give you praise.
4 So will I bless you as long as I live *
and lift up my hands in your Name.
5 My soul is content, as with marrow and fatness, *
and my mouth praises you with joyful lips,
6 When I remember you upon my bed, *
and meditate on you in the night watches.
7 For you have been my helper, *
and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice.
8 My soul clings to you; *
your right hand holds me fast.
(9 May those who seek my life to destroy it *
go down into the depths of the earth;
10 Let them fall upon the edge of the sword, *
and let them be food for jackals.
11 But the king will rejoice in God;
all those who swear by him will be glad; *
for the mouth of those who speak lies shall be stopped.)
Would you agree that, with the exception of one verse, today’s psalm is a jewel of wonder, love, and praise? That verse about “insomnia” is, for me, the clunker, or at least it was a clunker until I retired. In the darkness of night, insomnia is my friend. Now that I don’t have to worry about sleep-deprivation souring my job in the morning, I lie awake happy with the quiet.
Of course, a lot of time I make poor use of my insomnia. I wonder what to cook for supper. I wonder what horrors threaten me in the back of the fridge or in my credit card statement. With classic Attention Deficit, I scurry along five equally unimportant brain-trails simultaneously.
On other nights I do better. I pray. I might pray for my brother. How can I be truly his friend? Have I been neglecting my middle child? How can I tell her my love in a meaningful way? When I doze off again, I sleep very peacefully.
On rare nights something else happens. It’s special and different, and it’s a gift from God. My concern for my brother and my middle child fade into wordless praise, into wordless thanks for all of God’s unnamed and unnameable creation.
It’s a moment that doesn’t come that very often and doesn’t last. All too soon, I start thinking again about the supper menu, but the memory of that special moment makes me smile secretly next day, thanking God for sleep-deprivation (at least in retirement!)
Marian K.
O God, you are our God, help us eagerly to seek you, to feel our hearts faint for you, to gaze upon you in your holy places . . . even the night watches of sleeplessness. Let us cling to you! May your right hand hold us fast and may the dawn bring us secret smiles of gratitude for your constant love. Amen
Spiritual Oasis 