It’s odd, saying this, but I don’t find the twenty-third Psalm all that comforting. When my mom was planning her celebration of life (a.k.a. funeral), she requested some music (some that I did sing), but one particular scripture reading, that in the title, was one she outright didn’t want said at the memorial service, because it was a bit too depressing to her, especially for what she wanted people to do while there. Years after releasing purple and pink helium balloons into the air with family and friends, I still can’t bring myself to really like the psalm. I find no comfort in it, and I can’t fully explain or understand why. I know that others do find it rather comforting, but – I guess it reminds me of the pain of having to watch her suffer as she did. I still play music for it, but I can’t bring myself to say or sing it. It rings like an clanging cymbal in my ears instead of soothing a weary, tired, angry soul.