I feel that God, more often than not, speaks to me in two distinct ways: through his peace that goes beyond my own understanding and....through song. Having grown up in a rich Christian tradition and been part of countless churches, youth groups, summer camps, retreats, conferences, bible studies and choirs, I'm distinctly well versed in a large array of Jesus lyrics that find their melody in everything from hymns to hip-hop. It happens sort of like this: I'll be praying a typical, 'Lord, give me guidance' type of prayer when all of the sudden I notice that I'm humming along to a song. Sometimes the song just pops into my head and I have to break out in worship mid-prayer. If it's an old one I might even google the lyrics or have to sing it four or five times before the muscle memory of each word comes back to me. Whether it be part of a very natural fruit of worship or a divine message from God, when I pay attention I often find that those lyrics hold the exact 'answer' that I was looking for.
A few years ago when I was doing an extended trip in India I found myself for days on end humming a melody that I could not recognize. I was going up to people begging them to identify the song for me and help me remember the words. Finally a friend from another local mission project began to sing along to my soft hum. 'Word of God speak, won't you pour down like rain...' Something clicked and I felt God instantly calling me towards scripture. It was a discipline I had been avoiding and one that saved my life in the last month of my stay in Andra Pradesh.
This morning as I sit and wait on the Lord I come with a heavy burden that has been weighing on my heart for over a year now. It has been a long journey of teary-eyed nights, intense therapy sessions, wrestling with God and lots and lots of conversation. There have been few moments when I feel as though every part of my life is as uniquely connected in growth and struggle as I have this year. I have been called to grow in depth, in lament, in healing and in tolerance for the brokeness of humanity. I have sat with desperation alongside others as we, knowingly or otherwise witness the labor pains of a groaning earth in New York City. I have felt the rawness of humanity in its holy reflection of a loving God and in it's vile sinfulness- a paradox that fosters exhausting and yet hopeful expectation. I long to feel rest in my identity as a beloved child of God.
In a manor that seems more than appropriate, the words that came to me this morning are from a song that takes me back to my childhood bedside as my parents sang with me as part of a nightly bedtime ritual.
"Lord, you are more precious than silver. Lord, you are more costly than gold. Lord, you are more beautiful than diamonds. Nothing I desire compares to you."
Short from a detailed manifesto that outlines the next steps my husband and I should take in the upcoming months (I wish!), these words spoke direction and assurance to my heart in their child-like simplicity. In my exhaustion, I have been struggling with the idea of being called away from something good- I mean, like something really good. How is that I can be surrounded by everything I've ever wanted in a church, in a community, in a lifestyle and still feel as though I want to- even need to leave? The thought of walking away drowns me in insecurity, guilt, selfishness and confusion. The simple answer is that nothing compares with loving and being loved by God. Yes, I believe God loves the thought of church planting, of a contextualized gospel, of trauma-informed ministries, of a multi-cultural body, of sacrificial service and love- all things I feel guilty to walk away from. However, none of those things compare with the God who is the author, illustrator and manufacturer or such things.
If my ability to seek and experience God's presence is being hindered by anything- good, right and holy or otherwise- I have a choice to make. Is needing to rest in him and him alone selfish? Is he more precious than my works? Is he more beautiful than community? Is knowing him more valuable than doing justice? Not only am I sure that it is, none of of the later are even feasible without first being loved by God. As I shift my prayer from 'What do I do!?' to 'I need you and I want to experience you, help me' I feel that peace. Following God is costly in some of the most unexpected ways and yet it is more precious and beautiful than anything else that I desire.
A few years ago when I was doing an extended trip in India I found myself for days on end humming a melody that I could not recognize. I was going up to people begging them to identify the song for me and help me remember the words. Finally a friend from another local mission project began to sing along to my soft hum. 'Word of God speak, won't you pour down like rain...' Something clicked and I felt God instantly calling me towards scripture. It was a discipline I had been avoiding and one that saved my life in the last month of my stay in Andra Pradesh.
This morning as I sit and wait on the Lord I come with a heavy burden that has been weighing on my heart for over a year now. It has been a long journey of teary-eyed nights, intense therapy sessions, wrestling with God and lots and lots of conversation. There have been few moments when I feel as though every part of my life is as uniquely connected in growth and struggle as I have this year. I have been called to grow in depth, in lament, in healing and in tolerance for the brokeness of humanity. I have sat with desperation alongside others as we, knowingly or otherwise witness the labor pains of a groaning earth in New York City. I have felt the rawness of humanity in its holy reflection of a loving God and in it's vile sinfulness- a paradox that fosters exhausting and yet hopeful expectation. I long to feel rest in my identity as a beloved child of God.
In a manor that seems more than appropriate, the words that came to me this morning are from a song that takes me back to my childhood bedside as my parents sang with me as part of a nightly bedtime ritual.
"Lord, you are more precious than silver. Lord, you are more costly than gold. Lord, you are more beautiful than diamonds. Nothing I desire compares to you."
Short from a detailed manifesto that outlines the next steps my husband and I should take in the upcoming months (I wish!), these words spoke direction and assurance to my heart in their child-like simplicity. In my exhaustion, I have been struggling with the idea of being called away from something good- I mean, like something really good. How is that I can be surrounded by everything I've ever wanted in a church, in a community, in a lifestyle and still feel as though I want to- even need to leave? The thought of walking away drowns me in insecurity, guilt, selfishness and confusion. The simple answer is that nothing compares with loving and being loved by God. Yes, I believe God loves the thought of church planting, of a contextualized gospel, of trauma-informed ministries, of a multi-cultural body, of sacrificial service and love- all things I feel guilty to walk away from. However, none of those things compare with the God who is the author, illustrator and manufacturer or such things.
If my ability to seek and experience God's presence is being hindered by anything- good, right and holy or otherwise- I have a choice to make. Is needing to rest in him and him alone selfish? Is he more precious than my works? Is he more beautiful than community? Is knowing him more valuable than doing justice? Not only am I sure that it is, none of of the later are even feasible without first being loved by God. As I shift my prayer from 'What do I do!?' to 'I need you and I want to experience you, help me' I feel that peace. Following God is costly in some of the most unexpected ways and yet it is more precious and beautiful than anything else that I desire.
