My eyes are not haughty; my heart is not proud.
I do not busy myself with great matters,
With things too sublime for me. (Psalm 131:1)
Not because I am some sort of spiritual giant.
But because I broke my hip.
And now I have a new hip,
But things aren't quite right.
I busy myself with little things,
Like trying to tie a shoe
Or put on a sock.
These things are not great matters;
They are not sublime.
They border on the ridiculous.
But this is where my eyes and heart and hands are these days.
And you are with me, even in the ridiculous.
Perhaps especially in the ridiculous.
Today, I put on my left sock by myself.
It took me most of three minutes, maybe four.
Afterwards, I had to lie down, catch my breath,
And take some Motrin.
But today, we, you and I, Lord,
Put on my left sock.
After I rested, and with many contortions, I tied my left shoe.
Thank you for the great gift of reality.
It's hard to be full of myself when putting on a sock
And tying a shoe are the greatest matters of the day.
It's much easier to see you in a donned sock and a tied shoe
Than in things too sublime for me.
The Pharisee looked up,
The publican looked down.
I look down, too, and see you,
Because I see my left foot, and on it, a sock and a shoe.
Too see up, by looking down.
Now that's sublime.
Vigil of Palm Sunday
(c) 2017 Larry Pizzi
50 years of photographs and 35 years of keeping a commonplace book.