Sometimes it feels like sacred text reads us rather than the other way around. It feels like these words were written for this particular moment. It’s what we want to hear and what we need to hear except that it’s really hard to hear.
That’s how Psalm 125 reads to me as too many babies are dying in Gaza. This is not what goodness looks like. This is not what we hope but there can still be trust, right? We can still trust in God’s goodness because it is more than this.

Trust is something we have to work on. It takes work, sometimes a lot of work to build up enough trust to raises mountains from the earth. That kind of trust is unshakeable and cannot be moved. I want that kind of trust but I’m still hauling boulders and trying to believe that goodness is out there. Sweat is dripping in my eyes and I’m muttering words of prayer because sometimes that’s all we can do.
Here’s the psalm and a prayer in my own voice.
Consider what and who you put your trust in without worry or doubt. This feels like an important question in times of political upheaval especially in the United States. There are lots of similar questions to be asked of candidates and nations but maybe that’s not the focus of this trust. Maybe it’s smaller. Give your space to wonder about the trust you find within and outside of yourself. What do you rely on? What doesn’t need to be questioned because you know it will always be there?
Still your body down enough to notice where you feel trust in your body. Where does it live? How do you know it is there? How would you describe it to someone else or even to yourself? Would you use shapes or colors? Are there adjectives or images that might illustrate what it feels like to find that trust within you?
Allow yourself to relish in this trust for a while. Noting its place and its power within you, give thanks that its there. You might want to ask that trust to grow or expand to a part of your body that is tired and worn. Breathe deeply and know that you can return to this trust always.
Human kindness, in spite of all the sorrows and violence.