I have long wrestled with this Psalm. Every time it was read, I felt that God was laughing at me. Affirming my life as a cruel, creative joke. Yet, it is a treasured Psalm for others, and often read aloud (or the parts that are in the lectionaries are read aloud).
Someone, noticing this, charged me to wrestle with the Psalm further, strive towards what God is really saying to me through it. On retreat this week (8th January, 2014), this is what I attempt.
Precious, precious One –
One of the infinite and the infinitesimal.
Who can number the grains of sand on the beach,
And inspire the waves to lap the seashore.
You who are Holy.
Holy, and yet surrounding me,
And cradling me safe in Your arms
On the dunes, and over the crashing, crushing tides.
One who knows that I need You,
Even when I scream that I don’t,
And want to be rid of You and rid of me.
Still, You are the One.
One who makes nothing You do not want.
Makes nothing You do not want.
Who always wanted me, every bit of me,
And goes on loving me
In spite of it all.
You, who are my All in All
Come, draw near to me,
Listen to my heart once more.