It's Wednesday morning. The silent prayers around the table have ended. Now the group of ladies meeting each week are asked to recite the Lord's Prayer together.
There'd be no shame in not knowing it.
But I'm glad I do.
Another day, another group. This time around a gravesite. The pastor requests those gathered around to say Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd . . . .”
I'm comforted in the recitation.
There are certain things I have regretted learning through the years. Like lyrics memorized from some of Prince's songs. Or Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds watched one too many times. Or hours wasted reading books with no
intrinsic value whatsoever.
But there's one thing I've never regretted learning:
It sounds corny, I realize. But time spent repeating Truth over and over hasn't disappointed me yet.
I'm slow at it, granted. And I might forget tomorrow what I learned today. But even so, some things do stick. And even when they don't, the value in the moment is rich.
The Spirit touches deeper than actual words.
Because I'm not just spending time with alphabet letters—I’m spending time with the Lord. I seek—and find—him in the words and under the words and through the words.
I don't have to memorize scripture to spend time with him.
But I’ve never had regrets when I do.
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