When a book goes out into the world, it is like watching your half-grown child, riding the school bus with bullies and taking all kinds of risks, every day. However flawed, you know its very life is a miracle. A mother's heart thrills at any kindness shown your child - every smile, every friendly wave lets you know all is well.
Just as A Woman's Book of Psalms was in final proofs, I edited out the back story of how it came to be, this summer and fall, not wishing to distract its readers with intensely personal material. I wanted it to live and breathe on its own, not be weighed down with sorrow. And already I can see that those instincts were right. The psalms are flying - they are free to swirl and heal. I have not been able to read them since plowing through about twenty drafts, front to back and back to front, during the final month or so of editing and proofreading. But soon I will begin to pray them, as was my original longing. It is wonderful to think that others might use them in prayer, too.
Just as A Woman's Book of Psalms was in final proofs, I edited out the back story of how it came to be, this summer and fall, not wishing to distract its readers with intensely personal material. I wanted it to live and breathe on its own, not be weighed down with sorrow. And already I can see that those instincts were right. The psalms are flying - they are free to swirl and heal. I have not been able to read them since plowing through about twenty drafts, front to back and back to front, during the final month or so of editing and proofreading. But soon I will begin to pray them, as was my original longing. It is wonderful to think that others might use them in prayer, too.
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