"Where can I flee from your presence?"
1 Lord, you have searched me out and known me; *
you know my sitting down
and my rising up;
you discern my thoughts
from afar.
2 You
trace my journeys and my resting-places *
and are acquainted with
all my ways.
3 Indeed,
there is not a word on my lips, *
but you, O Lord, know it
altogether.
4 You
press upon me behind and before *
and lay your hand upon
me.
5 Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me; *
it is so high that I
cannot attain to it.
6 Where
can I go then from your Spirit? *
where can I flee from
your presence?
7 If
I climb up to heaven, you are there; *
if I make the grave my
bed, you are there also.
8 If
I take the wings of the morning *
and dwell in the
uttermost parts of the sea,
9 Even
there your hand will lead me *
and your right hand hold
me fast.
10 If I say, “Surely the darkness will cover me, *
and the light around me
turn to night,”
11 Darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day; *
darkness and light to
you are both alike.
Prayer is the longing of the human heart for God. It is a yearning and desire for relationship with God, and it is God’s attention to our desire: God-in-communion with us. The great spiritual writer Augustine of Hippo [354–430] captured the longing of the human heart in the beginning of his Confessions: “You have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” We long for God because we are created by God, and this longing is both the source of our hope in God and the very thing we resist. Prayer is an awakening to the fact that the fulfillment of my life lies in God.
God delights in creation and loves each of us with a personal love. Prayer, therefore, is God’s desire to breathe in me, to be the spirit of my life, to draw me into the fullness of life. When I pray—when I breathe with God—I become part of the intimacy of God’s life. The Franciscan theologian, Saint Bonaventure[c. 1217–1274], wrote in his Soliloquy, “[God] is the One who is closer to you than you are to yourself.” Prayer is recognizing the intimate in-dwelling of God in our lives, the One who remains faithful in love even when the world around us may fall apart. . .
[This is an adapted format courtesy of Martha Johnston, Contemplative Outreach of Maryland and Washington, DC]
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