Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Dig Down Deep To Hope; Rise Up In Rest

I long to not cry in church.
I yearn to be strong.
Yet week after week I feel my resolve give way.
We sing words. 
Words of Truth and Hope;
Promise and life.
I sometimes close my eyes and tell myself, if I turn around he'll be there in the balcony. 
That red haired,crooked grin boy.

Or if I try hard enough I will hear the beat of the drum.
The Rhythm of the soul.

Sometimes this world is just plain hard. 
It's not devoid of happiness and joy; it's just hard.
This season of finding time to be quiet.
To sit and be still; is difficult.
I try to find anything and everything to fill the silence.
 Why isn't this easier?
Why is the quiet so unfamiliar.
I confess to God my difficulty.
 I lay bare before him my inadequacy and ask him to help me.
Help me to find the space where the holy meets the grit and grime.
Where I do not have to pretend.
Where it doesn't matter if my resolve gives way.
Each day I will practice the quiet.
I will try to be still.
I will wait upon the Lord.
I will continue to plant my feet on solid ground.
Dig down deep to hope;
rise up in rest.

Psalm 46:1-3
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

Be still and know that He will never change. 

Listen to this song and practice the quiet. 
Allow the Lord to speak to you. 
To breathe new life into your weary soul. 
He is more than able. 


  1. I am 5 1/2 years into my grief journey and almost every Sunday at church my eyes fill up and I am moved by the words of the hymns, His Words. Resting in Him...or striving to.

  2. Today in church 3/16 as we sang I know I confused the poor kids leading worship as I sat there with a joyous smile on my face and tears streaming down. I was actually thinking back even before the loss of Elijah, when we sang Days of Elijah at Jon Parker's funeral. The choir had been working on that song for months and had just sung it a few weeks before in church... and I remember how I felt such joy fill me as we sang it out as a church family, so loud and strong. It was joyous through the pain. And there we were years later, with the mourning of Elijah so fresh, singing it again, on the last Sunday the Parkers would be worshiping with us.

    But again, the song filled me with joy. As we were crying and singing it felt right. Sad, joyous, family.

    1. So true Kelly. I too wasn't only thinking of Elijah. But the Parkers last Sunday and Peter and Sharon not being around. Oh Lord come quickly.