For you will not abandon me

For you will not abandon me.

The psalmist said 
three little words,
whether in thanksgiving 
or exhortation,
we will never know:
“For you will.” 

Lo, technically, there was another word, 
that perfectly negated the imperfect verb
“For you will not.” 

Whatever confidence this psalmist had 
to trust in God’s refuge and command God’s action
I do not share. 

For what God would inherit me? 
My lot is a pit
Last week’s laundry piles up in the corner 
but the stench of its stale sweat is still sweeter than
the bitter rot from the nightly afterbirth of prior years’ misdeeds. 

O, psalmist tell me who told you 
how to conjure God!

Tell me how you proclaim 
Therefore! Because! Surely! For!
like a lawyer before the court.  

Whereas,
Faded like sign posts
On an unused trail,
I stagger between 
my Maker’s markers,
trusting the path 
they set 
leads to new life
no matter how
misplaced
my steps
have been 
still are,
and
will be.

---

On and off through the pandemic, I’ve turned to the Psalms either individually, or as part of the Morning Prayer. In December, I decided to join CBST Synagogue’s daily Psalm Text Study. For each Psalm we create our own offering, if we want, in reaction to what we felt, learned, or even hated in the Psalm. After sitting out two Psalms offerings, I delved into Psalm 16. I envied the Psalmist’s trust in redemption, in forgiveness, in a path. I wished I could hear the Psalmist’s invocation of God as a model. Instead, I only heard the funny ways those close to us use our goodness to harm us, how we harm in return, and these cycles of past harms try to dictate who we can be. Yet, trusting, as this Psalmist did, in Divine grace, I choose new life.