Not too many days ago, a wonderful friend and mentor wrote a blog called “What to do when you’ve lost your song” (http://livetheworshiplife.com/2014/04/11/what-to-do-when-youve-lost-your-song/). When I read it, I was in the midst of a songless void, so it certainly applied to me. I used to be the girl who walked around singing to the skies all day long, both with my mouth and with my heart. The things that shook my life up also scared away the songbird in my heart. My melody was silent. I wasn’t just sad, I was joyless. “The joy of the Lord is my strength,” but I was afraid of the Lord, frustrated with the Lord, and confused by the Lord, so I could find none of his joy. My heart, which used to make music to the Lord at random, had fallen silent.
I had accepted this soul-silence kind of like I would accept laryngitis. I felt no prompting to amend it. It would mend in time. God would bring me back around. He would restore my soul and the joy of my salvation. But for the time being, I was not moving. I was not singing. I was not striving. I was healing.
Well, I found my song today.
I shocked myself with how much worship came out of my mouth unbidden. I spent much of the morning and afternoon today singing and praying as I have not done in months. There was no wild sense of the spirit of God. I didn’t “feel” Him in the way I have sometimes before, nor was there an urgency to “press in.” There was a lack of numinous awe in my physical body, but in my heart, I was aware of a very faint change, like the soft click of some door unlocking, or the slow stretch of something growing. Slowly and surely, just like the healing of a physical illness, my soul is healing.
Interestingly enough, there is a familiar desire do something since I am no longer spiritually bed-ridden. I want to ask God to show me what’s next now that I’m “all better”, and I want to expect things to start happening quickly. I want to go. I want to start my next journey. I want to do things and feel like I’m making a difference. I want the season to change now.
But I don’t think it will just yet. I think I’m able to notice now what kind of a shift is happening. I’m getting better, but I’m not well yet. I’m still here because He wants me here. I’m beginning to be able to pray and truly ask for His will and His timing, and that is at once shocking, refreshing, and natural where it was once very forced. I want a job, but I can wait. I want a new adventure, but not at the expense of my peace, which I finally have again. I had a pre-interview test for a job I applied for. I had every opportunity to be anxious, and at some points I was, but a certain prayer kept sounding in my heart. “God, open the right doors and close the wrong ones. If this is a wrong one, the so be it.”
This sort of prayer is as alien to my anxious soul as a Martian would be to Earth, but it has begun to take root in my heart. God’s grace and strength is growing in me like a slow and sturdy tree. I could not plant that tree if I wanted to, as is evident by all of the struggles in my life thus far, but He is changing me. I feel it. I know it. It isn’t forced. It can’t be “achieved.” Not by me. I will quote this verse until it no longer resounds in me like a gong: “By GRACE you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves. It is a Gift of God, NOT of works, lest any man should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).