658. Be still my soul – and brain

Be still my soul – and brain.jpg

The past couple months I’ve been on this blog less than usual. This time of year is always the busiest with my freelance medical writing. If you read Finding Livelihood, you’ll recognize this line: “In the margin of a notebook, in seconds stolen from the project at hand, I’ve scribbled the words, Brain deep deep down, like a message in a bottle, like a ransom note.” That was written during this time of year. The brain-deep-deep-down season. The season is starting to lighten, however, even as the days grow shorter, and my brain is lifting to think about other things: writing of the creative and spiritual sort on this blog and elsewhere, a new dessert recipe from the Barefoot Contessa for guests tomorrow night, readying the house for dear ones arriving for Thanksgiving.

Less pleasant world news, disturbing news, has rushed in and grabbed a substantial portion of my focus in the last week, however, as I’m sure it has yours as well.

I’ll admit to a propensity to lie awake at night worrying. Not only worrying but also holding onto things that should be let go in nighttime hours. Like work. Like [fill in the blank]. Each of us could list many reasons to be unstill in the night, in the day too.

Streams in the Desert.jpg

A new friend, Carrie from Raindrops & Rivers, posted this prayer on a social media site this week. I read it and thought it’s just the thing to repost here, not just because I found it soothing and imagined that you, reader, might find it soothing also, but because it’s from a book that’s on my own shelf: Streams in the Desert by Lettie B. Cowman, although as you can see in the version of the book I own, the author identifies herself as “Mrs. Charles E. Cowman,” which makes me smile each time I see it. The fact that the book is on my shelf says to me, via a sign of coincidence: But you know this already, right? Even so, let me gently remind.


From the June 1 entry in Streams in the Desert:

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;
The storms are raging on God’s deep —
God’s deep, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;
God’s hands will still the Tempter’s sweep —
God’s hands, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;
God’s love is strong while night hours creep —
God’s love, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;
God’s heaven will comfort those who weep —
God’s heaven, and yours; be still and sleep.


[Photo: taken by the neighborhood creek before the last of the green disappeared.]