On Mondays I have been sharing a few prayers from our new book “From the Psalms to the Cloud — Connecting to the Digital Era” (Mankin and Tirabassi, Pilgrim Press).
From Aotearoa / New Zealand two psalms by Beverley Osborn. I invite you to walk …
Loving God, you are the dear companion of my bush walks.
You lead me through a tall stillness of sun-splashed green, rinsed with birdsong.
How you satisfy my need!
The tracks you show me lead me ever deeper into awe and reverence for the wonder of you.
When the way is steep and dangerous with mud and the climb seems beyond my strength and courage, you are with me, enduring with me.
You sustain and enrich me with the discovery of so many wayside treasures.
In the shining of the leaves above me, you give me a patterned canopy of blessing.
Like the deeply contented song of the fern-fringed creek, my soul sings in gratitude for your abundance.
Surely the friendship of fantails, the peace of sunlit, peat pools, the tenderness of deep moss and the purity of the bellbird’s joy are your abiding gifts to me.
I will dwell forever in the life giving green-ness of you.
Amen. So be it.
Living God, you are the best of friends for my beach walks.
You refresh me with the tang of salt and the music of gentle waves on calm days and brace me with gale gusts on days when the seas are a glory of crashing splendour.
You give me the smooth sand under my feet, coloured and patterned in satisfying swirls.
Even when I must clamber through jutting piles of driftwood or wend my way between sharp rocks, I’m not afraid because you are with me, giving me your adventurous spirit.
You provide me with wonderful vistas, ranging from glorious technicolour to the serenity of tender shades of mother-of-pearl.
When life gets overcrowded by the demands of others, when I’m berated for walking a beach instead of using the time more “profitable” ways, you restore my perspective and renew my stamina.
Surely the wings of seabirds will weave panoplies of your light and blessing around me and the delicate structuring of small shells, scattered at my feet, will remind me that your care for me is individual and wonderful and is mine forever.
Surely the twenty-third psalm begins in a walk … out of doors … somewhere real. “Green pastures” and “still waters” are not, though they may have come to be — wallpaper.
If you can, today — walk somewhere. Notice your companion.