A Psalm of Polly.

Oh no, I thought. Here it comes, I sighed. "Go around the room and share." 

Going around the room and sharing is an introvert's worst nightmare. Especially with strangers. I can't go first unless forced to. But the more others share, the more nervous I start to get. At some point it always happens that I decide to just get it over with, and trip over someone else who has spoken up at the same time. Awkward. I defer to them of course so I can hold off talking for as long as possible. But inevitably it's my turn. I don't actually hear what I'm saying, but something comes out, and usually I have to get some kind of humor in to try and calm myself, so I hear people laughing but it's not much consolation. 

I'm participating in a thing from October through next May called the 19th Annotation. This is a form of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola, and it's really an Ignatian retreat "in daily life." It's led by a Jesuit priest, Father Ted, and a woman with many years of experience in Ignatian spirituality and spiritual direction. There are seven retreatants in the group. I only knew one of them when the retreat started, I'll probably get to know the rest pretty well over time. We will  have hour-long virtual meetings every week to listen to a presentation on the focus for prayer for the week. Private spiritual direction is also part of the retreat, and while I haven't experienced that yet, they say we will meet with one of the leaders once or twice a month. 

The first week we met was generally introductions and "life stories." This was the dreaded go around the room and share moment. I did wait until the bitter end, looking at the clock and realizing we were running out of time, hoping they would just let me off the hook. But no. So, I blurted out what I could as fast as I could, hoping there were at least a couple of cogent sentences in the mess.

We are working through a book called The Ignatian Adventure, by Fr. Kevin O'Brien, and our "assignment" after the first session was to read the first 30 pages of the book. Essentially it was an introduction to the Exercises, a brief bio of St. Ignatius, and some guidance on the prayer. St. Ignatius was big on adaptation and flexibility, so it's less about a rigid format of prayer and more about an encounter with God. 

In our second session, there was some good discussion about prayer, and at one point I said, "I don't talk at all and then I talk too much." I love conversation about deeper topics much more than "go around the room and share" so I was excited and talked quite a bit. When asked what we thought of the first 30 pages of the book, I spoke up and said as a person who tends to be a little impatient, I thought it was a good intro but "let's just get to it!" Others shared my sentiment, but the leader gave some very good reasons why it has been done this way for generations. She said we would be still in the beginning stages of this for two or three weeks. TWO OR THREE WEEKS? 

Okay, okay, I decided I would just have to relax into this, trust the process, and slow my roll. 

The assignment following the second session was to move into "Week of Prayer #1" which is all about God's unconditional love for us. The book is very easy to follow, and provides a suggested grace to pray for during the week, then daily scripture (brief) to pray with, and a question to consider. Our retreat leaders made it clear this is just a guide, so you can sit with any scripture you want for as short or long as you want. (I like a plan, so for now I'm just following the book's outline.)

I'm three days into the week's prayers. I spend about 20-30 minutes in the morning, a few minutes to just be quiet, an Our Father to start, then I read the scripture passage several times, slowly, asking God to show me whatever it is he wants me to see. Then, quite unlike me in prayer lately, I just shut up and listened. After a time I close with a short prayer and the sign of the cross. Then I journal what I heard.

Yesterday I heard some things from God that kind of shook me awake and revealed some ways I have thought about God as father and how that might change (the passage if you're interested was Luke 12:22-34). 

So, when I was praying with today's verses, Psalm 23 - one of the most beloved passages in all of Scripture - I thought, "really?" I sat reading it over and over and.... nothing. Nothing except me thinking how this is nice and comforting and all that, but so familiar, and pretty far removed from my life. I can envision a shepherd, cute sheep, green fields, a banquet and the whole nine, but it's like watching a period piece movie. Pretty pictures.

I was kind of arguing with God about this. What does this have to do with me? I thought, this may just be one of those times when "nothing happens." They made it clear that this could be the case. I glanced at the clock, and thought I would just call this one done. Then I heard: write it yourself.

Isn't this sacreligious, I thought? This was A Psalm of David. David who was writing about his relationship with God, bringing in themes from the exodus and the covenant with Israel. Who am I? How dare I?

But, I did. And for the first time in a long time, Psalm 23 meant something personal to me. I realized I can pour my heart out to God the same way David did. The Psalms are full of his human cries to God both good and bad. So these words may need tweaked, it's definitely not perfect, but this is what he showed me.

A Psalm of Polly

The Lord is my protector;
he has thought of everything. 

He helps me find the calm and the quiet;
he restores my soul.

He guides me to the right paths
for the sake of his name.

Even though I face a lot of scary things,
I can be brave because you are with me;
your Church and your Word comfort me. 

You take care of my physical needs,
everyone can see that;
you shower blessings on me,
I have more than I need.

Indeed goodness and mercy will keep following me
my whole life.

I will be with him forever. 

I guess when I shut up long enough, and I ask him to, God will still speak to me. What's your Psalm?