How Can That Be?

On Wednesday evenings at my church we are studying the book Psalms: Prayers of the Heart by Eugene Peterson.  Each week we look at a different Psalm and consider how it is a prayer in our life.  The introduction of Psalm 8's chapter asks, "When traveling, have you ever awakened and not known where you were?" I think we all experience that sometimes - maybe when traveling, maybe after an unusually timed nap. Peterson says that Psalm 8 is an orienting act of prayer, so I worked on rewriting it as if I began in that odd feeling of not knowing where I was.

My eyes open,

and I don't know where I am.

Everything is unfamiliar.

Everything is strange.

The only certainty is you, O God.

Majestic and glorious.

Dwelling in heaven

Dwelling in me.

How can that be?

I look around this uncertain place,

and I see what I cannot understand,

what I do not comprehend.

You stop your enemies with the word of a child.

You bring peace amid anger and hatred

by returning none of it.

Revenge may be sweet to you, O God,

but only because it is love,

returned for hatred.

How can that be?

I stand in this uncertain place,

and I look up at the sky.

I am struck silent by the stars

which you set in their places,

by the moon, steady and bright.

Who are we? Who am I 

that you would even notice me?

That you would care about me?

But not only do you think of us,

not only do we dwell in your mind,

but you dwell among us.

How can that be?

I stand in this place, uncertain and lost,

and am overwhelmed by the certainty

that you have created us.

Shape us in your own image,

made us into your own children

so that in each other

we see you.

How can that be?

Around me stands all of your creation.

Everything in your world - 

the sheep, the cows, the animals

the birds, the fish

All that dwells with us

Entrusted to us.

How can that be?

I awake in uncertainty

but come to life

in your creation.