Irreverin
The Lord is my shepherd,
whether I like it or not.
I shall not want.
Except for a bigger house, a nicer car a slimmer waistline;
a newer device, a little more power;
and to always, always, every day, be right about everything.
He makes me lie down in green pastures
as the world grays with concrete
and browns with toxic fumes
and bleeds with violence and rage.
He leads me beside still waters
even though I pull away, and make a run for the choppy sea
of my own thoughts, complaints, and addictions.
He restores my soul.
from its own self-inflicted wounds
He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake…
For his name’s sake,
even as I celebrate with my own signature.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
even as I log on, tune in, and worship at
the altar of fearful story
that we call news.
For you are with me;
even as the world spins into chaos, crippled by the hatred of other,
Your rod and your staff—they comfort me
They tell me a better story,
And call me back to your side.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies
And ask only that I sit and dine with them.
You anoint my head with oil;
And call me to live a life worthy of this benediction.
My cup overflows
With sorrow, with remorse,
With gratitude.
Because for all my selfish, wandering, fearful and faithless ways,
I know that
goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
Even now. Even on the worst day, the worst week, the worst moment
Of the created, human world.
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long,
Singing a new song,
and telling the Shepherd’s story
into the darkness.
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