Each morning awakens to activity,
Everywhere I look busyness abounds,
I hear my name called loud and clear,
To the tasks that await me for today,
Each detail of what lies ahead,
Expresses the love of a God who is here.

He tells me there is a kinder way,
That sees people’s hearts,
And loves how they are made,
Each day as I learn to understand,
In what I do to see God’s hand,
I wait to find the love that’s in all,
My most important task of the day,
Hearing my God and obeying his call.

Wounding words repeat their funeral dirge,
Saying my life is worthless to grander plans,
Stories abound that seek to disguise,
The sounds of hate resounding,
A continual drone of death words,
Seeking only to open the gaping wounds,
Brought by despair’s lashing remarks,
Missing the beauty that always resides,
In each of creation’s opportunities,
That belongs to everyone’s humanity.

Opportunity is passed by in the rush,
Discarded in each drowning cry,
Each sound heard by deaf ears that don’t listen,
Not recognising the gift given in hope of love,
Opportunity closed by hate’s blindness.

Then in the midst of my deepest despair,
Opened a path that always was there,
God looks at a the wounds born from hate,
And sees the way that leads to hope,
That place that listens to my sad song,
And, tells me child it’s here you belong,
From this safe place I can begin to listen,
To the words of potential that lives in me,
Instead of death I can believe in opportunity.

Out of the deepest expression of care.
Work was born with a beautiful idea,
That saw me and knew my name,
Calling me to the life of a king,
Centred in the plans of Eternity,
Sure that each step that I take,
Was planned by perfect love,
Knowing that nothing is left to chance,
I begin each day sure of his Grace.

Each day is a door that opens to hope,
Where my inheritance is given,
Freely to those who understand,
The love that called me to this small task,
That faithfully serves Love’s soft whisper,
His voice promising peace to all,
In the midst of the loud clamour,
Of the thousand empty words spoken.

Uncertainty is banished from my effort,
The words that seek to destroy,
The trust that was given,
Selfishness can never give of itself,
He has forgotten my name,
And seeks only for himself,
All is replaced by knowing my call,
Born from the pain of forgetting,
But, then hearing a clear call,
That speaks daily as my work begins,
His beautiful call that says I belong.

Each day is a fleeting marker,
As days are transformed into years,
Heart and soul are wearied,
By the incessant call for more,
Rejected by a heart never satisfied,
It’s served faithfully but can’t be pleased,
Each day is the fruitless effort,
Of a daily quest that is never enough.

Belonging becomes a violent wrenching,
Of tearing my heart from love’s calling,
I turn up each day but passion dims,
When loyalty is repaid by greed,
This is the slow pulling apart,
By the pinpricks of selfish ambition,
Given by a thousand jabs each day,
The slow death of words that demean.

Today I begin by looking up,
To the reason why work began,
Instead of saying not good enough,
A child’s best efforts are blessed,
No longer just a brick in the wall,
My soul in God’s hands to safekeep,
The daily rhythm of work turned to blessing,
My heart’s effort transformed by Love’s clear voice,
That sees beyond the daily grind,
And seeks what lies in store for eternity.

The days rushing by in short hours,
With a relentless pace of things to be done,
With barely time to think of grander things,
The golden thread lost in the maddened din,
The constant noise and lists and screens.
What should be remembered is quickly forgot.

Today I slowed my world’s activity,
Achieving reduced to one kind act,
That will set the whole world right,
Despite my life’s efforts to hurry on,
I paused to weave a thread of hope,
That draws to me to know I belong.

The golden thread weaves through my life,
Bringing together desire and reality,
Binding that tragic gap of unknown,
To bring me to a clearer certainty,
Of accepting what is here and now,
And, then to know what is certain to come.

Every morning is painted by the sun’s rays,
Earth’s heartbeat wakens to dawn’s display,
The creator’s work commences with me,
As I begin my daily quest into discovery,
Of what God brings to my life today.

My first task is to open my heart,
With eyes that see beyond a touch,
Appreciating beauty in the everyday,
With open arms to give what is received,
Love’s transforming wonder in your child,
No accidental masterpiece is ever born,
From the beginning our work belongs.

I long to combine heart and call,
To learn to appreciate each gift,
Brought to all who are called to share,
The daily tasks that become our toil,
To join with the Creator’s creation,
In appreciation of what he begun,
Is now continued by my handiwork,
Transforming every drudgery,
Into my daily crafting of love.

A thousand pinpricks are certain to kill,
Just as certain as a bullet to the head,
Each day mounts with frustration,
Passion slowly curls up to die,
Lost in the mass of failures,
Notched up in the daily diary account.

Joy’s slow death has it’s own smell,
The putrid stench of contempt’s gaze,
That stares from it’s lofty throne,
I am lost in what cannot be changed,
Unless something changes in me,
Broken down, deserted for green fields,
That yield a thousand times more.

But Joy’s heart was opened wide,
To begin to restore my broken heart,
What went wrong will be set right,
As hearts combine in loving embrace,
Celebrating the meagre gifts offered,
From which something beautiful unfolds,
Promises from God are always kept,
Setting things right in Creation’s economy.

The burden of always saying yes,
Led to a daily list of failures,
That mounted up in accusations,
Each day an unscalable mountain,
Yes, was turned to death words,
That led to condemnation,
Of the impossibility of seeking to please.

I discover by going where I need to be,
But, learning to take the time to slow,
To hear what is lost in the wind,
Slowing to feel on my neck,
The sweet breath of God’s whisper,
That holy call to stay and be true,
To learn to wait before I do.

My first word today is to say, “No”,
To a thousand different questions,
That seek to bring complexity,
To what is the simple choice,
Of first saying yes to God.

I have decided about the way forward now that I have done all of David’s Psalms.

I want to make each day a Psalm for God so I have worked out a new series that I have called “Psalms for the love of work.” At this point I have 10 themes worked out but you never know there may be more that emerge along the way.

I have started at 201 to acknowledge a gap between the Psalm 150 and this latest understanding. The gift of work is my first Psalm in this series.

The Gift of Work

My day begins celebrating God’s gifts,
He loves the way that I was formed,
I hear his daily nod of approval,
When my plans begin with prayer,
Listening to his desires,
Work becomes my daily offering,
Of creation’s gift of creativity.

Shared with my creator’s image,
Is the gift of my daily effort,
Creator’s gifts discovering human heart,
Transforming routine drudgery,
To daily moments of pleasure,
That seek the best of life’s fullness,
My craft found in my Creator,
As together we share each day.