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