“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.

“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.

Poor in spirit? It takes drawing near to You for me to understand.
In Your Presence, reality reigns.
Your light reveals empty substitutes for true riches encroaching.
Your Word speaks. Opening arrogant eyes. Unstopping stubborn ears.
Truth. Zeroing in on where I’m prone to wander.
