“I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; For you have been my help, And in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.”
Reflection by Judy Copeland
“How did you sleep last night?” That’s often the opening remark when my neighbor and I meet to walk our dogs. Like me, she worries about money. She runs a non-profit and teaches children about growing food, and I pastor a small rural church. The institutions we love and spend our days tending thrive in spirit, but teeter on the economic edge.
Sometimes experience and goodwill help. We’ve both been at this too long to be shaken when a crop or a sermon fail, a grant falls through or a contractor does more damage than good. Recently, we had our church steeple painted, but a careless crew also painted a portion of our 125 year old slate roof. “It kind of looks like snow,” the village optimist reassured me as I stood on the sidewalk photographing the overspray and documenting the damage. “It will be nice at Christmas if we don’t have any snow again this year.” His perspective helped me see that indeed the rogue paint did look like a dusting of snow.
Most of all, what helps as we struggle to minister with ever-scanter resources is the assurance that we do what we do in the shadow of God’s wings. While the wings that shelter us may be invisible to some, the psalmist reminds us that they give us the protection, the respite and most of all, the singing joy we need to carry on.
Gracious God, help us nestle under your wings and get the rest we need to do your work. Amen.