Psalm One

I rarely worry about what people think of me, and I am gradually learning to just walk away from the question for good. Actually, there have been ways in which I never much cared…and others in which I did, deeply. Ego has wanted some things connected with the issue of how others see me, the kind of personal or professional reputation I have. Well, personal is not as important now as it used to be, and this direction of growth slowly deepens. My profession and I didn’t like each other when all was said and done, so I have no profession and, obviously, no professional reputation to worry about. While the question still comes up from an ego standpoint, it does so less frequently and less powerfully than it used to.

With that being said, it occurred to me one day recently to wonder if people think about me as being like the tree in the first Psalm, calmly and strongly overcoming drought. Going by things I’ve heard people say, I just found myself wondering about it. I don’t know where the thought came from. It may have been ego – I honestly couldn’t tell – and it may have been just a framework for reflecting on this Psalm. Whichever, I am using it to reflect on this Psalm.

Here is my own inelegant and mildly feminist paraphrase of Psalm 1: “Blessed is she who seeks wisdom, avoids the ungodly, doesn’t sin, and isn’t scornful. Her delight is in God’s law, and she meditates on it 24/7. She’s like a tree by a river, fruitful in season, unharmed by drought, always prosperous. The ungodly are fluff blown by the wind, and they cannot stand near judgment or righteousness. The righteous stand; the ungodly perish.”

I’ve always been attracted to this Psalm. I’m not sure why. I think I just like the picture of the tree and the river. The tree is always prosperous, fruitful, even overcoming drought. (I can’t say that I study the Bible 24/7. And I don't dare to say that I never do anything wrong.)

As the tree in the Psalm stretches its roots down toward the water, I stretch my spiritual roots each day toward the Source that nourishes me. That’s simply our instinct, to reach out for God – however we understand God to be – for strength and wisdom.

I am in a drought, as far as material considerations are concerned. I struggle with fear of poverty and isolation as I face the coming of old age. I deal with frustration at my job situation; the only job I can find is 53 miles away from home and pays minimum wage, and I have just gone back after a four-week layoff. (And there is no guarantee that I will avoid being laid off again.) If I look like I’m coping well, I can tell you bluntly that it doesn’t feel that way.

But if that is how others see me, my witness must be fairly good even though it doesn’t reflect my feelings. That would make sense. You rarely see yourself the way others see you. So maybe I do have some resemblance to that tree. We all need feedback from others about how well we do – or do not – walk our talk. There are several ways in which I know I don’t walk my talk very well; I also believe there are some ways in which I do. I won’t try to say which of those is stronger; that is between God and me anyway. I just work to do my best each day.

The only thing I may do differently is to continue to reach out for God even when I’m not in a drought. Because to me, prayer is about relationship with God, not shopping lists. I don’t need to “need” something in order to want to pray.

So if I happen to look like I’m flourishing in a drought, that is probably the explanation. I don’t mean to take credit for it. That’s just how it is.

I don’t know how that tree feels about it, but there’s my take on the question.