Daily Office Readings for Friday, October 16, 2026: Psalms 31 and 35; Sirach 11:2–20; Revelation 9:13–21; Luke 10:38–42

Some mornings I sit down with the Daily Office and discover that the readings are asking me the same question from several directions:
Where am I placing my trust, and how is that trust shaping the person I am becoming?
Psalm 31 gives us someone whose circumstances are falling apart. He is frightened, grieving, and worn down. Yet he continues to turn toward God as his rock, fortress, and shelter.
I understand that need for somewhere to rest my troubled heart. Sometimes I want God to straighten everything out immediately. Yet refuge can also come as peace enough to breathe, help from someone who cares, and courage to take the next step while the trouble remains.
Psalm 35 brings another feeling into the room: anger at being mistreated. The psalmist describes people who repay his concern with cruelty. He wants God to intervene and bring judgment upon them.
I have to examine myself here. When someone hurts me, do I want the harm to stop and the truth to be known? Or do I want that person to hurt as much as I do?
Sometimes both desires are present.
God is not on call to do vengeance for us. I can bring my anger into prayer, but I also need to allow God to examine it. Seeking justice and keeping clear boundaries can go hand in hand with surrendering my desire for revenge.
Sirach 11:2–20 turns my attention toward appearances, honors, and possessions. How easily I judge someone by what I can see. How easily I imagine that recognition or a little more money would make me secure.
Sirach describes a person who expects to rest and enjoy accumulated wealth, unaware that death will leave those possessions to someone else. It reminds me of Jesus’ story about the man who built bigger barns.
There is nothing wrong with preparing for tomorrow. But preparation cannot give me control over tomorrow.
Sirach brings me back to faithfulness: keep my commitments, tend to the work entrusted to me, and continue growing through it. As I grow older, that work includes prayer, listening, writing, and loving the people who enter my life.
Revelation 9:13–21 asks an uncomfortable question about change. I once approached this passage mainly as a picture of future events. Now I also see its searching picture of the human heart.
The survivors experience terrible suffering, yet they continue in destructive ways.
Trouble does not automatically make us compassionate. Fear does not automatically make us faithful. I can go through something painful and emerge more resentful, more defensive, and less willing to listen.
The passage portrays terrible powers operating within limits under God’s authority. It also leaves me examining my response: Am I willing to receive correction? Will I allow grace to change how I live?
Then we arrive at the home of Martha and Mary.
Martha is busy serving, and her worry spills into resentment. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and listens. Jesus gently calls Martha’s attention to how distracted and troubled she has become.
I recognize Martha. I have been busy doing worthwhile things while allowing anxiety to determine how I treated the person beside me.
Earlier in Luke 10, the commandment calls us to love God with heart, soul, strength, and mind, and our neighbor as ourselves. I find it helpful to consider my whole person: my physical, spiritual, emotional, and rational self.
My physical self needs care and rest, and gives love practical expression.
My spiritual self needs prayer, worship, and time to listen.
My emotional self needs room for honesty, healing, and growth.
My rational self needs to study, question, and examine what I believe.
These dimensions of my life affect one another. Exhaustion can shorten my patience. Fear can cloud my judgment. Quiet attention can help me recognize what another person needs.
Life is relational. How I relate to God shapes how I relate to myself, other people, and creation. These readings ask me to pay attention to what is happening in those relationships.
Today, I can bring my fear, anger, ambitions, questions, and weariness before God. I can listen before reacting. I can keep my word. I can do the work that is mine to do and leave room for grace to change me.
Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.
Teach me to see with compassion.
Teach me to listen with wisdom.
Teach me to speak with love.
Teach me to discern what is true and loving.
Help me receive your love with my whole self and give that love expression in the next faithful step.
—The Curious Pilgrim

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