I'm late writing today. This morning went too fast, although I did take time to read the day's readings (and said my prayers on my very dark walk at 5:30 a.m.). There wasn't time to sit here and think about the Psalm.
It was Psalm 119;145-176. I really don't care for this Psalm. Every verse is just a rework of the verse before. I remember from the Kerygma book that this Psalm is a repetition, in as many ways as possible, of how the author feels about the Lord's law. I kind of like Verse 148 from this psalm, however.
"My eyes are open in the night watches,
that I may meditate upon your promise."
I have certainly spent my share of "night watches", and often find that I can relax and finally sleep if I concentrate on prayer. I remember the night that Dad died. I had been reading "A Reckoning", by May Sarton, which helped me understand why Dad was raving so with the morphine. In my journal I wrote:
"It's hard to accept that slow, frightening death is necessary. It's a temptation to rant and rale at God for "letting" this happen. I have to remember the circumstances that brought this on were a result of a free will--smoking.
And still I wonder why it's taking so long? He's barely conscious; he's very confused. It's so hard for him to breathe, and when he does painstakingly pull in air, it isn't enough to make him comfortable.
And now, with the morphine, he's further away than ever."
The journal, and Sarton's book, kept me going.
"The storm began around 3:00 a.m. Someone had lowered the blinds. I opened them so he could see the lightning. He kept reaching his hand out--stretching his arm as far as possible. The lightning went on for a long time (maybe an hour?) before the thunder began. Then a mighty flash and an immense crack of thunder brought the rain. Three times the lights dimmed and nearly went out. Shortly after he died and my friend arrived (maybe at 7:50 a.m.) they did go out and stay out.
During all this I prayed for his release. As morning approached and he was still struggling and strangling, I prayed for strength for both of us."
I learned a lot about Dad, and my own faith during this long night.
This entry is from my Bible journal. I was thinking about "night watches" (another subject for Compost?). This watch was one of the most exhausting I have ever had, but there have been others.
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