Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over...
Mother Wrote: Kaddesh
God, our holiness
God, our satisfaction
Toward the end of this section, which talks about how life can hurt and cut and bruise, Mother wrote "Start" where it says:
David says, "Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup... He didn't say "our heads" or "our cups."
It is the singular, personal pronoun.
All day long the shepherd is concerned with the flock. But as they go into the fold, he takes them one by one...
...He stand at the door of the fold and checks them one by one.
Mother Wrote: God has the power of the universe and the power to take care of me.
Mother Underlined Portions of: Remember how, as little children, we would bruise a finger or stub a toe. We would come running to Mama, who would kiss the hurt away. There was a mystic healing in her loving concern.
...a heart can be broken.
I Write: ...and so it can.
It's 9:35 p.m. This day has held more tears than I can imagine any day should. I took a shower not too long ago and cried more tears than I knew I had water within me. Certainly more than the spray splashing against my body and falling, along with my sorrow, to the tile beneath my feet.
Oh, my precious Jesus.
Do you see me at the gate?
Is there healing for my wounds?
Water for my thirst?
Rest for the tired and the weary?
If only life were about one day, one hurt.
If only we went out into the brutal world one time and return to the fold but once. Instead, we go out long day after long day. The path is familiar and yet still it's rocky. It rambles. It twists and turns.
Perhaps, I think, life hurts the most when we allow anything other than God to jockey for position of "satisfier."
Father, I am at the end of the day. I am tired. Broken. Bruised.
I am standing at the gate of the fold.
Do you see me?