The beauty of being human is to turn to our spiritual ancestors, to cherish what they left behind, what remains. What has lasted? What has endured? Where can we turn for anything permanent when our loves, and our lives, are so exquisitely and heartbreakingly impermanent? Something is shifting in me, very far inside, as I am turning to these old psalms, reading them every day. I am starting to believe, throughout these millenniums, there’s been something unfailing and steadfast. And I think it might be God.
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