Drowning.
Your hand rescued me.
Wounded.
Your balm soothed me.
Terrified.
Your peace encompassed me.
Lost.
You found me.
Your healing love weaves
the tattered pieces of my life
into a garment of joy.
You gave me my life;
how may I repay You but
to live it – joyfully, gratefully;
to share the love that has made me whole;
to sing of Your goodness in the land of the living
and to die in peace when my time comes
– the Shema on my lips.
You are my God, You alone.
Used with the permission of the author, from Carla’s book Psalms Redux
Sculpture: ‘Eve’ by Auguste Rodin, Cardiff Museum