From: Lucia Flaherty
How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land? If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy. Psalm 137.4-6
My daughter Joan has a wooden cat on a leash that she has named Rusalem (as in Jerusalem—she named it around the time she started Sunday school classes in the weeks leading up to Easter). Sometimes she forgets where she has left him, and she’ll walk around our apartment calling out his name, as if he’s real, as if he’ll come find her. Usually, what ends up happening is I’ll find Rusalem and bring him over so they can take a walk together.
When she calls out, she calls out earnestly, expecting an answer. But when I call out to God, a God I believe to be real, how earnestly do I call? Do I really expect an answer? Do I wait for one? Sometimes I do. But sometimes, I’ll just call out, hear nothing, and move on. I do not call out and search the whole apartment, looking for God. I do not continue to call even when I see nothing. I do not call and call until someone else brings him to me. But I should.
If I forget you, [Je]rusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you.
I live in Jamaica Plain with James, Joan and Ursula.