By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
One morning, Psalm 27 was my scripture reading for the day. When I reached the end of the short chapter, something stirred my heart and drew my thoughts with familiarity.
I looked up the verse in an older King James version of the Bible, and there in the margin was a note. The familiarity deepened.
Wait on the LORD: be of good courage,
and he shall strengthen thine heart:
wait, I say, on the LORD.
It was the verse my mother frequently quoted during my growing-up years. When she said it, I could hear the tightening of her grip, sense the confidence she placed in God.
“I will trust him. He won’t let me down.” It was her mantra, and she lived it.
She was not perfect, but that verse was her North Star.
She tried to please the God of her faith.
She didn’t always please me, for I was a teenager when the clashes began, and waiting was not something I wanted to do.
But she taught me a few very important things:
God loves me.
He is faithful.
Wait for Him.
I’d like to say that waiting is easier today, a lifetime later. I can say that sometimes. But often it isn’t easy because I still wear a garment of human flesh and bone.
Yet what she taught me remains true:
Wait on the LORD: be of good courage,
and he shall strengthen thine heart:
wait, I say, on the LORD.
Psalm 27:14
~
At the next block, Cale made a right turn. “Doc’s in the alley behind the barber shop. If you don’t want to walk down there, you can wait here, and I’ll bring your satchel.”
“I can walk.”
He stopped and faced her. Her chin had tightened, her shoulders were stiff.
“That’s not what I meant.” His neck itched. “I know you can walk. And a fine job you do of it too.”
She raised her head to look him in the eye and crossed her arms into a barricade.
“I mean, you’re hardly limping at all today.”
Her head tipped to the side, but her eyes never left his.
His collar band tightened. “Not that you limp, mind you.”
One small foot began to tap.
“You do real well for someone who . . . who . . .”
The paper sack crinkled in her hand. “For someone who’s a cripple?”
Tarnation, he was digging himself deep. “No. That’s not what I was going to say.” He pulled his hat off and ran his sleeve across his brow. “You know I don’t see you like that. I mean . . . what I’m trying to say is—”
“Yes?”
“Well, if you were a horse, I wouldn’t put you down.” ~A Change of Scenery
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