i spend a lot of time in the car, driving on potholed roads shared with trucks that are stacked too high, motorcycles with too many passengers and helmet-less drivers, cattle, wild dogs, and a lot of pedestrians. i'm used to it, and i'm even comfortable with it, but it may be why i get so many migraines.
today in the car, i was listening to praise music, which was miraculously keeping my boys quiet. i like to sing in the car and i like to pray in the car, so praise music is kind of both those things mixed together. the first song was 'blessed be your name'- a song i used to cry through each time i heard it, a song that spoke to me, that i felt my soul singing 7 years ago when i was pregnant with jude, birthing him, nursing him, and waiting and waiting some more.
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
most of my life i'd had sun shiny days. i'd had years of things being as they should be. in these times, it is easy to love God. there is not a lot of questioning, not a lot of doubting, because things feel good and life is put together. in these times, of course God is love- what else would she be?
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
then i had zoe- what a blessing. even the hard parts, the delays, all the wondering in those early years- it was difficult but i wouldn't have called it suffering. but the years of infertility before i had jude were marked with suffering. i wrestled a lot with God. i questioned, i was not gracious, i cried all the time, i threw a baguette across the house when i found out my friend was pregnant. i was angry and bitter. i couldn't say 'blessed be your name'- well at least not in my heart.
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
but suffering is relative, it's a continuous variable, it's not dichotomous. it was finding out at my 20 week ultrasound that this kicking life that was finally growing inside me was marred with defect, was likely to not to have his mind, that is when the darkness closed in. it was the suffocating news of utter tragedy. it took me to the place of no return. down in that darkness- i had to ask myself- i had to ask God- was he good- despite this? i had to ask myself if i could say 'blessed be your name'? if i could turn this into praise? was my sorrow going to negate his goodness? a goodness i'd always known- a goodness i could see around me everywhere- even in all the ugly of the world. was i going to turn away because the ugly of the world was sitting too close?
i spent a lot of time holding my womb and weeping and lying on the floor and begging God to show up- to help me see the goodness again- to have hope- to keep me from dissolving into a pile of nothing- to keep me doing the simple task of breathing, which no longer seemed simple.
and He did show up, quietly beside me on the floor, and out loud in my dreams. He showed up with no words of a promised miracle- but of faithful non-abandonment. He showed up simply to sit with me in the MRI scanner and spread peace. He showed up in the open arms of our friends and family who embraced us, cried with us, brought food to us, prayed for us, and loved us.
the sunday after i'd had that ultrasound, we went to church. i heard the beginning of this song and i began to weep. i knew in that moment i had to make a choice. was i going to sing to my God in this darkness? was i going to bless his name on this road marked with suffering? in that moment my heart broke. it broke open, and i knew in a way that was life changing that God loved me- and my pain wasn't going to change that.
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
today as i sang that song out loud, i looked into the rear view mirror and saw my boy- that boy- that boy who's life that taught my heart to sing even when my eyes were stinging with tears- the one who unpeeled suffering- and whose existence revealed the nature of God- the one who loves us so deeply, so individually, so passionately that He breaks with us- suffers with us- abides with us in the dark parts.
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
there in the backseat- that blonde head, those deep steel blue eyes- i watched him sing out those words- without knowing the poignancy they hold for me, they hold for him- my heart sang with his- in this land that is plentiful. i sang knowing full well there will be more desert places- and darker spaces- and many more walks through much greater wilderness. i sang knowing that things will be given, and taken away. i sang knowing now what my heart will choose to say.
today in the car, i was listening to praise music, which was miraculously keeping my boys quiet. i like to sing in the car and i like to pray in the car, so praise music is kind of both those things mixed together. the first song was 'blessed be your name'- a song i used to cry through each time i heard it, a song that spoke to me, that i felt my soul singing 7 years ago when i was pregnant with jude, birthing him, nursing him, and waiting and waiting some more.
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
most of my life i'd had sun shiny days. i'd had years of things being as they should be. in these times, it is easy to love God. there is not a lot of questioning, not a lot of doubting, because things feel good and life is put together. in these times, of course God is love- what else would she be?
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
then i had zoe- what a blessing. even the hard parts, the delays, all the wondering in those early years- it was difficult but i wouldn't have called it suffering. but the years of infertility before i had jude were marked with suffering. i wrestled a lot with God. i questioned, i was not gracious, i cried all the time, i threw a baguette across the house when i found out my friend was pregnant. i was angry and bitter. i couldn't say 'blessed be your name'- well at least not in my heart.
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
but suffering is relative, it's a continuous variable, it's not dichotomous. it was finding out at my 20 week ultrasound that this kicking life that was finally growing inside me was marred with defect, was likely to not to have his mind, that is when the darkness closed in. it was the suffocating news of utter tragedy. it took me to the place of no return. down in that darkness- i had to ask myself- i had to ask God- was he good- despite this? i had to ask myself if i could say 'blessed be your name'? if i could turn this into praise? was my sorrow going to negate his goodness? a goodness i'd always known- a goodness i could see around me everywhere- even in all the ugly of the world. was i going to turn away because the ugly of the world was sitting too close?
i spent a lot of time holding my womb and weeping and lying on the floor and begging God to show up- to help me see the goodness again- to have hope- to keep me from dissolving into a pile of nothing- to keep me doing the simple task of breathing, which no longer seemed simple.
and He did show up, quietly beside me on the floor, and out loud in my dreams. He showed up with no words of a promised miracle- but of faithful non-abandonment. He showed up simply to sit with me in the MRI scanner and spread peace. He showed up in the open arms of our friends and family who embraced us, cried with us, brought food to us, prayed for us, and loved us.
the sunday after i'd had that ultrasound, we went to church. i heard the beginning of this song and i began to weep. i knew in that moment i had to make a choice. was i going to sing to my God in this darkness? was i going to bless his name on this road marked with suffering? in that moment my heart broke. it broke open, and i knew in a way that was life changing that God loved me- and my pain wasn't going to change that.
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
today as i sang that song out loud, i looked into the rear view mirror and saw my boy- that boy- that boy who's life that taught my heart to sing even when my eyes were stinging with tears- the one who unpeeled suffering- and whose existence revealed the nature of God- the one who loves us so deeply, so individually, so passionately that He breaks with us- suffers with us- abides with us in the dark parts.
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
there in the backseat- that blonde head, those deep steel blue eyes- i watched him sing out those words- without knowing the poignancy they hold for me, they hold for him- my heart sang with his- in this land that is plentiful. i sang knowing full well there will be more desert places- and darker spaces- and many more walks through much greater wilderness. i sang knowing that things will be given, and taken away. i sang knowing now what my heart will choose to say.
1 comment:
this is beautiful. it's also funny that we've had this song on repeat ever since church last sunday, and i've been touched afresh by my daughters learning a song that i've known for many years. mmm He's good.
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