Music has always reached a place in my heart when nothing else could get through.
And although the “songs” in Luke’s gospel aren’t set to a singable tune, I can hear the high notes accompanying the words.
The first words Zechariah spoke after his long months of silence were a beautiful celebration of who God is and what He was about to do.
Read the rest here: Advent: Our Hero God
A few times in my life I’ve been utterly overwhelmed by an outpouring of God’s grace and mercy.
And like David who danced before the Lord when the Ark was returned to Jerusalem, I simply can’t contain myself. I want to move my body in response to the rhythm of the good news.
So I understand Mary’s response to Elizabeth’s blessing.
Read the rest here: Advent: Dancing the Song of My Savior God
In the waiting, in the searching
In the healing and the hurting
Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces
Every minute, every moment
Where I’ve been and where I’m going
Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it
There was Jesus
Jonathan Smith/ Casey Beathard/ Zach Williams -“There Was Jesus”
Songs reach places in my heart that words alone can never touch.
There is so much truth in this one.
When I couldn’t see Him, couldn’t feel Him, had no evidence of His Presence-Jesus was there.
His strength sustained me, His love protected my heart from bitterness, His grace was enough-is enough-for each day.
In the waiting, in the searching.
There was Jesus.
In the healing and the hurting.
There was Jesus.
There is a blessing buried in the broken pieces.
He is Jesus.
I have definitely felt besieged in this grief journey.
I imagined myself holed up in a castle turret, hoping against hope that heartache would stop battering the gates below.
For a long while I was afraid.
I was fearful that if the onslaught didn’t stop my heart would give in to despair, I’d let go of hope, I’d lay down and give up.
I don’t believe for one minute that David was never scared.
Instead, I believe that the words he used when his brothers mocked his step forward to take on Goliath were words God burned in his soul:
The Lord who rescued me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of this Philistine.
I Samuel 17:37 NIV
David was courageous IN SPITE of the fear because he knew the God he served. He had prior experience with God’s faithfulness. He was confident that the Lord would not allow him to fail.
So we come to today’s verses. They were penned a good while after Goliath, after being anointed king but before he gained the throne.
He was running for his life, fighting enemies on every side.
David had to remind himself of truth, just like me. He needed to sing aloud so his heart could be brave.
When the armies of the enemy surround me,
Psalm 27:3-6 VOICE
I will not be afraid.
When death calls for me in the midst of war,
my soul is confident and unmoved.
4 I am pleading with the Eternal for this one thing,
my soul’s desire:
To live with Him all of my days—
in the shadow of His temple,
To behold His beauty and ponder His ways
in the company of His people.
5 His house is my shelter and secret retreat.
It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil.
Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God.
He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.
6 God lifts me high above those with thoughts
of death and deceit that call for my life.
I will enter His presence, offering sacrifices and praise.
In His house, I am overcome with joy
As I sing, yes, and play music for the Eternal alone.
His soul was confident and unmoved in the midst of danger because he threw himself on the mercy of the Lord.
His plea was not, “Keep me safe” it was “Keep me near”.
Jesus told the disciples not to fear the one who could kill the body but fear the One who is able to destroy both body and soul in hell. (Matthew 1:28)
David got it.
He knew that no matter what happened-if he lived or died-his true shelter and his true life was in the Lord.
He was focused on Who walked with him not what might happen to him.
Truth is, we don’t always experience miraculous deliverance from life’s troubles or dangers. People we love die. People we care about are cast down, carried through hard times and come out the other side battered, bruised and barely holding on.
If I can only praise a God who spares me, I have no songs to sing.
But if I can praise the God who loves me, who offers eternal security through the blood of Christ, the God who will weave ALL the threads of my life-the dark, the light, the ugly and the beautiful-into a masterpiece declaring His glory for all eternity, then I have a song as long as I have breath.
And when breath leaves this body and I am free of my earthly tent, I’ll sing a new song for ever and ever and ever.
This was David’s God.
This was the God of Moses, Isaac, Jacob. Peter and Paul.
This is MY God.
And He longs to be yours too. ❤
QUESTIONS:
PRAYER:
Father God,
So many times I come to You with a list of petitions-do this, do that, solve this, fix that, keep me and mine safe, secure and happy. I’m seeking Your hand and not Your face. And when things don’t turn out the way I want them to I feel betrayed.
What you want is for me to trust Your heart even when I can’t trace Your hand. You have promised never to leave me nor forsake me. Help me, like David to ask you to keep me near, not just to keep me safe.
Your name is a strong tower, the righteous run to it and are saved-not saved from earthly destruction or trouble but from eternal damnation.
When I lose my song, give me a new one. When I forget that You are with me, make Your Presence undeniably real. When I lose hope, speak courage to my heart. And when I doubt that I can make it one more minute, much less one more day, strengthen me with Your might.
Amen
A precious waiting mama isn’t waiting anymore.
Eight years after her son ran ahead to Heaven, she’s joined him.
And I have to think that the step from earth to Home wasn’t a huge one for her.
I have never known a kinder or gentler soul in my life. She was always encouraging other hearts, always pointing others to the hope we have in Jesus.
She never preached, she simply extended grace and love that made it absolutely impossible for anyone to ignore the difference between her and most other folks.
I only met this sweet mama once face-to-face when she and a couple other waiting mamas came all the way to my house for lunch and an afternoon of sharing and encouragement. But our friendship continued long distance through Facebook and private messages.
Our mutual love of Jesus, children and children’s books wove our hearts together in so many ways.
I am convinced that the distance between her heart and Heaven is so short because she was already singing Heaven’s Song here on earth-calling grace, mercy, strength and hope to every heart she met.
I thank God for the privilege of knowing her and am looking forward even more to that Day when everything is redeemed, restored and renewed.
Rest well, faithful servant. Dance in the joy of your Savior. Hug your son. Revel in faith made sight.
We’ll be there soon. ❤
Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.
Deuteronomy 33:12
I grew up singing hymns.
I was introduced to praise choruses in my mid-twenties.
I love both.
I used to hear or sing along to them and feel them feed my spirit.
My family sang in choirs, served on worship teams and was rarely absent from church for over twenty years. Music was part of everyday life with a special bonus on Sundays.
Now I find it hard to hear and even harder to sing some hymns I used to love.
One of the most challenging is “It Is Well”-really, IS it well?
Can I sing these words with conviction or am I lying my way through just to keep others from asking questions?
I know the story behind the hymn-at least the part every worship leader or pastor likes to share. Horatio Spafford wrote the words as he passed the very spot where his daughters drowned in an ocean crossing. His life didn’t end on a high note. It’s often introduced as an amazing testimony of victory over grief and death. If I only cling harder to Jesus, I, too, can experience perfect peace in the midst of great trial and suffering.
We sang that hymn in church a couple of weeks ago and I realized that it is a prayer as much as (or instead of) a declaration.
In many ways, after 5 years, it IS well with my soul.
I’ve reached a place where I can rest easy with unanswered questions and where I have finally received this blow with open arms. I’m not fighting the FACT of my son’s earlier than expected move to Heaven.
On those days, I can sing the chorus as an affirmation of truth.
But I have days (and sometimes weeks) where life and memories and anniversaries and random stress unsettle me again. So then I sing it as a PRAYER like the psalmist who turns his heart to the only One Who can fill it again with grace, peace and hope.
It may not be well right NOW, but it WILL be well.
I can trust that He who began a good work in me will complete it.
I can lean on the truth that in Christ every promise of God is “yes” and “amen”.
I know, deep in my bones, that all this heartache will ultimately be redeemed and that whatever I have lost in this life will be gloriously restored in Heaven. ❤
We usually think of worship as songs of joy and happiness extolling the virtues of God and Christ.
While that is most certainly a form of worship, it is absolutely not the only one.
Biblical lament is an honest, vulnerable expression of pain, a crying out to God in faith as we are suffering.
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Worship is also the broken whimper of a scared and wounded child, crawling into the lap of her Abba Father.
There is no less adoration in this ultimate act of confident trust than in the most eloquent declaration of theological truth in word or song.
Lament is worship.
Christian lament is not simply complaint. Yes, it stares clear-eyed at awfulness and even wonders if God has gone…Yet at its fullest, biblical lament expresses sorrow over losing a world that was once good alongside a belief that it can be made good again. Lament isn’t giving up, it’s giving over. When we lift up our sorrow and our pain, we turn it over to the only one who can meet it: our God.”
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Bringing my brokenness to God as an offering, trusting Him to receive it, to keep it and to begin to weave even this into the tapestry of my life is perhaps the ultimate act of worship.
When I refuse to pretend, refuse to hide, refuse to run away and look for an answer somewhere else, I affirm that He is my God, and there is no other beside Him.
A lament is an act of worship, a faith statement of trust, in the face of difficulty. It’s a wonderfully honest way to acknowledge our trouble to God as we also acknowledge our hope is in him.
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God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. … It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I always thought this meant that no one could see his splendor and live. A friend said perhaps it meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is splendor. … Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.
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I definitely don’t have a solo quality voice.
I can carry a tune but it’s best carried mixed in with others in a choir so the occasional missed note is barely noticeable.
But if I was granted the ability to belt out a single song and have it broadcast far and wide, this would be it: “Love the Broken”.
Not, “Love the Lovely” or “Love the Sexy” or even “Love the One Who Loves You Back”.
Nope.
It would definitely be, “Love the Broken”.
This is the song I’ve learned the hard way. It’s the song that’s been burned into my heart and mind and soul and spirit. It’s the song that resonates in any language, across time and across miles.
It’s the song every single heart can understand.
Because we have all been broken at one time or another.
And we have all desperately needed love at one time or another.
I’m really not that great at many things. I’m a decent cook, a mediocre housekeeper, a devoted but probably not up-to-the-highest-standards shepherd, a lazy gardener, and a wish-I-could-follow-directions-better crafter.
But I am a full on, all out, no-holds-barred lover.
I am unashamed to speak blessing over strangers in public places.
I will not be silenced by a sheepish glance when my kids wish I’d just stop telling them how very much they fill my heart with so many good things.
I hug. I give cheek kisses. I hold the hand of a person whose heart is breaking just so they know they are not alone.
I believe with my whole heart that at least one verse of the New Song we will sing in Heaven is “Love the Broken”.
Because isn’t that really what Christ came to do?
His ultimate act of sacrifice was to bring the broken and outcast into the Kingdom.
He is Hope for the hopeless, love for the unloved, peace for the war weary soul.
Truth is, I’m going to spend my life on something.
I want to spend it like Jesus.
The months when I can sleep with windows open are my favorite.
I love fresh air and I love falling asleep to the sound of the breeze tinkling my wind chimes or the rain drip, drip, dripping on the leaves.
Last night I had been asleep for a few hours and woke to a sound I rarely hear after dark-a bird (probably one nesting in the tree outside my bedroom window) was singing her heart out. I listened for awhile, thinking that surely something had startled her awake and as soon as her eyes took in the night she’d hush her melody and go back to sleep.
But she just kept singing.
Chortling through chord after chord, note after note, trill after trill.
I fell back to sleep before she did.
And as I was drifting off, I was reminded of this verse:
I’m thankful for open windows, singing birds and daily reminders that I am not alone on this journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Jesus is here.
He loves me.
He gives my heart songs in the night.
Any one can sing in the day. When the cup is full, one draws inspiration from it; when wealth rolls in abundance around them, any one can sing to the praise of a God who gives an abundant harvest. It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but the skillful singer is the one who can sing when there is not a ray of light to read by—who sings from their heart, and not from a book that they can see, because they have no means of reading, except from that inward book of their living spirit, where notes of gratitude pour out in songs of praise. No one can create a song in the night by themselves; they may attempt it, but they will learn how difficult it is.
~C.H. Spurgeon
I am thankful for Brene Brown.
She has helped me put words to my feelings, helped me see a way forward when I felt there was none and helped me own my story even though it is hard.
I keep her quotes around to encourage my heart and remind me that I am brave.
This is one of my favorites:
thelifeididntchoose 