It’s been an interesting month—hard in some ways, reflective in others. In navigating these ups and downs, I’ve found myself rediscovering the Psalms. These timeless words have offered comfort, guidance, and a sense of connection.
When I need grounding and spiritual comfort, I look to our tradition. In the Jewish tradition, we have a psalm for every day of the week, known as the Shir Shel Yom (Song of the Day). The Psalms offer praise for the power of creation, inviting us to pause, reflect, and find meaning in each day’s unique challenges and opportunities. These Psalms have been part of my daily practice lately, offering moments to pause and reflect, and I wanted to share a bit about how they’ve been speaking to me.
Here is what I found meaningful in each day:
Sunday
“The earth is God’s and all that it holds, the world and its inhabitants. For God founded it upon the seas, established it upon the rivers." (Psalm 24:1–2)
Sunday feels like a fresh start to me, a chance to reset and begin again. Psalm 24 reminds me of the wonder and interconnectedness of creation. Remembering that creation itself is a gift. Reading it, I found myself noticing little things—my neighbors dog outside my window, the way the light falls in the morning as we move into winter. It’s a reminder that even in the ordinary, there’s extraordinary beauty if we take the time to see it.
Monday
"The likes of what we heard we have now witnessed in the city of GOD of hosts, in the city of our God may God preserve it forever! Selah." (Psalm 48:9)
Mondays can feel heavy, but this psalm brought me back to the strength of community. Two of my clergy friends and I pulled off a benifit concert for Western North Carolina flood victims this weekend, neither of us had any experience in doing such a thing. This psalm also reminded me of the people who sustain me—the ones who help me feel connected when life feels scattered. As I reflected on this, I found myself thinking about the stories we share, the traditions we hold, and how they make us stronger together.
Tuesday
"Rescue the wretched and the needy; save them from the hand of the wicked." (Psalm 82:4)
This psalm felt like a call to action and accountability. Reminding me that even in small ways, I have a role to play in making the world a little better. Sometimes, it’s as simple as reaching out to someone in need or standing up for what’s right in the moment. Reading it pushed me to think about where I can show up more fully.
Wednesday
"When I thought, ‘My foot is slipping,’ Your kindness, O ETERNAL, supported me."
(Psalm 94:18)
By midweek, I often feel the weight of everything I’m juggling. This psalm met me right there. It reminded me that I don’t have to do it all on my own. Whether it’s leaning on my loved ones, pausing to breathe, or trusting in something bigger than myself, there’s support when I need it.
Thursday
"I the ETERNAL am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” (Psalm 81:11)
This one made me laugh! It reminded me of something my mom used to say when I was in trouble: “I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!” But behind the humor is a deeper truth about trust and provision. This psalm nudged me to take a moment to acknowledge the blessings I’ve been given and the ways I’m cared for, even when I forget to notice.
Friday
"The world is firmly established; it cannot be shaken." (Psalm 93:1)
Thank goodness it’s Friday. As Shabbat approaches Psalm 93 reminds me of stability and grounding. As the week’s chaos catches up, this verse invites all of us to pause in the power of creation. Shabbat offers grounding, a chance to breathe, let go, and reconnect with what truly matters. And a reminder that the world keeps turning even when we rest.
These psalms have helped me find moments of reflection and clarity this month, and I hope they offer you something meaningful, too.
If you’ve been leaning on any texts, practices, or traditions to navigate this month, I’d love to hear about them. Sharing our experiences is another way we find connection and strength.
With gratitude and hope,
R’ Sandra