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Psalm 121 at Harold's bedside

Went up to the hospital this week to sit with Harold, who sang bass beside me in the choir for thirty years. He's had a hard fall and a harder week. He can't sing right now, so I told him I'd do the praying for both of us. Psalm 121, the one his mother used to say: 'I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.' He mouthed along the whole way. When I got to 'the Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in,' he squeezed my hand so hard I thought I'd need a doctor myself. Folks ask how a deacon can also be a rootworker. Same answer every time: it's all the Psalms, it's all the Lord, and it's all love for the people in front of you.