Our Tent

A Reflection on the Psalm for October 25th, 2020:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Psalm 18

R. I love you, O Lord, my strength.

I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer.
My God, my rock in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the source of my salvation,
my stronghold. 

R. I love you, O Lord, my strength.

I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
So I shall be saved from my enemies.
From his temple he heard my voice
and my cry to him
reached his ears. 

R. I love you, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord lives! Blessed be my rock,
And exalted be the God of my salvation,
Great triumphs he gives to his king,
and shows steadfast love
to his anointed. 

R. I love you, O Lord, my strength.
​

Pause. Pray.

And then read more...

It started with lifting You up. As we sang Your name, exalted You, declared Your love and faithfulness, it was like we were lifting poles into place — like the Israelites in the wilderness erecting the poles of the travelling tabernacle, building something to contain Your presence. Except we were a small group of friends — of women — in a house on a quiet street.


 I love you, Lord, my strength.


I needed a shelter. I didn’t know what was wrong exactly, just that I was feeling battered. I think it was that I had been letting the wrong voices, my own included, tell me who I am. I think it was that I had started trying to pull my life along by my own brute strength, even though I know better than that. In the not so distant past, I have known the place of utter dependance on Him, but I had let these voices begin to muddy the sound of who He is and who I am.  


I love you, Lord, my strength.


We adored You together, and remembered who You are. This act of love and trust became a frame for what You did next — for how You reminded us of who we are. As each daughter of Yours spoke from her heart who she knew her sister to be, it was like You were laying layers of beautiful fabric over the poles that were standing around us, until You had made for us a tent. And then You walked right in and sat with us in it.


I love you, Lord, my strength.


On a dark night, a tent in the woods is a dimly noticeable shape. But place a light in it, and it is a beacon. A saturation of colour drawing the eye from the surrounding dark. Is that what it is like with us and Him? As we bless His name, we make a place for Him to come. As we bless each other, Love Himself comes and lives with us. And the Light from this living tabernacle that we become together is incandescent, calling all to come and see.  


I love you, Lord, my strength.




​Noreen Smith

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