Susan LaffertyLetting go.
I hold the simple karahi with both hands. We bought these aluminum wok-like pans in the bazaar during our first months in Pakistan.
They sit, hidden behind other pots in the cabinet. Rarely used lately.
It’s time.
“Blessed is the man….” Our class repeats Psalm 1. Rhythmically. As directed by the professor.
And years later the words return to my mind. With a beat.
His Word.
Faithful and true.
He doesn’t jump to resolve. Or rescue. The psalmist is moving through his pain and fear.
Moving through the murk, into trust.
He knows who God is.
And cries out to Him.
