He who dwells in the shelter
of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of
the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord,"He is
my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."
Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly
pestilence.
He will cover you with his
feathers,
and under his wings you will
find refuge;
his faithfullness will be your
shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of
night;
nor the arrow that flies by
day,
nor the pestilance that stalks in
the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys
at miday.
A thousand may fall at your
side,
ten thousand at your right
hand,
but it will not come near
you.
You will only observe with your
eys
and see the punishment of
the wicked.
If you make the Most High
your dwelling -
eve the Lord who is my
refuge-
then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near
your tent.
For he will command his
angels concerning you
to guard you in all your
ways;
they will life you up in their
hands,
so that you will not strike
your foot against a
stone.
You will tread upon the lion
and the cobra;
you will trample the great
lion and serpent.
"Because he loves me," says
the Lord, "I will rescue
him;
I will protect him, for he
acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will
answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor
him.
With long life will I satisfy
him
and show him my salvation.
-Psalm 91 NIV

Psalm 91 is my favorite Psalm for a number of reasons. It was the first one I remember reading. Besty pointed it out to me when I was in elementry school and I loved it from the start. Reading it gave me a feeling of protection and comfort. It's also the Psalm I read to my Grandma a few hours before she died. That was one of the moments in my life that I'll cherish forever.

It was the summer going into my senior year of high school and I was going on a 2.5 week mission trip to Trinidad with the Word of God. Betsy went on the trip two years before and had a blast and so I was looking forward to going. A few months before I left my Grandma was diagnosed with cancer again, but this time we all knew that this was the last time. A few weeks before I left we got word that she probably only had a few months left to live. The news was hard to take, but I figured I'd be back in plenty of time to spend time with her and say goodbye. The Sunday I left I broke down crying in Church. There was a fear that something would happen and I would be in Trinidad when she died. She was declineing, but very slowly and so there shouldn't have been any reason to worry. When I got there I called home a few times to check up on how things were going. Then everything changed. My dad sent me a fax and told me that I should write a letter with last words to her. That was a very hard letter to write. I still have a copy of it at home. It tells her how much I love her and some other things. A few days after I faxed my letter to her word came that she had stablaized a bit and it looked like I'd make it home in time. It stayed that way for the remainder of my time in Trinidad. On the flight home there was a 6 hour lay-over at the airport in Miami. For some reason I had a really strong urge to call my parents. I got off the plane in Miami and looked for a phone. There were many around, but for some reason none of them would accept my calling card or any of my friend's calling cards. I spent hours looking for a way to call home while my anxiety hightned. I really needed to make that call for some reason. Finally, after about 4 or 5 hours I somehow managed to get ahold of a calling card and called my mom. It was then I found out that my Grandma's condition had taken a sharp decline and she didn't have very long, only a few hours. My parents told me that they had been trying to get me on an earlier flight home that day, but there weren't any avaliable. I still get choked up when I remember them telling me. To make matters even worse, right after I got off the phone it was anounced that our plane was delayed for another 2-4 hours. I had a feeling of utter hoplessness and grief. All I wanted to do was get home as soon as possible. When we eventually got in the air the flight seemed to take forever. I had a strong desire to give my Mom a huge hug all throughout the flight home. We reached Detroit and I was hurried of the plane and to my Parents and sisters who were at the gate waiting for me. We hurried to the car and I learned that she was still alive but in a coma at my Uncles house. A little after midnight we arrived there. I was let into the bedroom to see her. She looked so different, so frail, so small, and I started crying once again. They left me alone so that I could talk to her and my Mom handed me a Bible and suggested that I read a Psalm because she liked to hear them. It was then that I read Psalm 91 to her. I was very choked up and it was hard to read, but I'll never forget that moment. It's so special to me. I also was able to tell her that I loved her. The plan was for me to come back the next day and see her again, but my mom came into my room the next morning and told me that she had passed away that night. My family says that she was waiting for me to come home. That means the world to me. Grandma, I love you.