Posted April 3 2005
Unto Thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul,
Unto Thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.
O my God, I trust in thee-
let me not be afraid-
let not my enemies triumph over me!
I sing this piece of a psalm in the shower, quietly, hands over my face, and warm water on the arthritis in my shoulder. A 70s chorus, learned in the desert one night from a friend. Unto you, O Lord, in whom I don't believe... for there is no one listening... Unto you I pour out my soul..... All the pain I can tell no one. All the exhaustion and the despair. And the loneliness.
It is good to unburden myself. You might almost be there listening. In some strange way I feel that I am loved.
I need mother or father. I need to curl up against them and be safe from all the stress and endless responsibility of life. I want to feel safe, and content, and warm. I want not to drag myself out of bed to another day where I have to do things and supply things, and keep people happy. It is so long since I was carefree I cannot remember what it is.
Unto you, O Lord.... perhaps in the singing is trust and faith in the finally providential nature of reality.... you are well worth the title of God.... or perhaps this Easter eve my singing is simply some psychological venting of pent up feelings- a simple self deluding trick. But I will sing unto you, O Lord. I will pour out my soul. There is nothing else I can do. There is no one else.
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