In the midst of my muddle, O God,sneak up, come alongside, break an egg over my head, by your annoying goodness make a royal mess of my cynicism provoke praise, and melody, and the laughter, of self-pity ribbed by grace. Bring it on for this would be salvation to me, tired as I am of the cult of earnestness. Give me the bread of gladness and the land will know of it, the rocks and fields will hear of it from my mouth. Though none join me, I will not be silent. With or without stringed instrumentation: a song, a psalm of joy among the peoples weary of earth.
- an excerpt from Psalm 67, by Brad Davis (I met this poet at a C.S. Lewis conference four years ago, bought a slim book of his meditations on each of the Psalms. I love his work. )