Become the Psalmist...(11-20)

I sit with my Bible on my lap. I ponder the age-old words resting in my hands.

The house is (often/sometimes/never) quiet as I quiet my own heart.

I pick up my paintbrush, swirl it around in my salsa-jar-turned-water-cup, and dip it into my palette.

I am learning, ever so slowly, to become the psalmist.