He told me there were typos in his prayer book*.
Sure enough—incline Your car to our lamentations.
I did not see that coming. After that my so easily
distractible mind could do little else other than
add colors to a psalmy paint-by-numbers scene of
God in His car, leaning slightly out the window
to hear us, hear us, hear us as we pray.
I remember reading once that Walker Percy
drove around St. Tammany Parish in one of those
small pickup trucks, Mazda or Toyota, the kind of
truck people drove who belonged there, people
who worked with calloused hands and red necks.
Walker drove that kind of pickup because it
made him feel like he fit in, like he too belonged.
So as you might imagine my finished Day 17 Psalter-
piece incarnates the God-Who-Belongs as the
spitting image of Walker Percy, luminous forehead
looming above that affable smile, leaning slightly out
the window as the humid grace of earth’s piney woods
mixes with linguistic analysis and the lamentations
of we who pray with calloused hands and stiff necks.
*Robert Benson, Venite: A Book of Daily Prayer