So, it happened again, as it has happened so many times.
I am driving in my car and a song I have heard many times comes on the radio, but … this time … I really hear it.
I often think that when this happens, it is then that God wants me to hear His voice. And once I hear it, I cannot unhear it. It is unmistakable to me that God is pursuing me with a message.
This time the message was not completely new as it was an old song, wrapped into new words. A bit of a sidestep from the, but with all of the depth of the original song.
The first words I heard, were not the first words, but the second line,
don’t let me face this loneliness alone
That caught my attention, for I knew a number in my circle who were struggling with, facing, loneliness … and my heart was heavy for them.
Then the fourth line,
I need a peace that only heaven knows
Oh, that peace that passes (human) understanding! How many times have I written those words of hope for those who grieve, sincerely praying that the words become manifest in the lives of those sorrowing over the earthly loss of a loved one?
Jesus could you please
Just sit and cry with me …
Oh yes, the human cry to experience the empathy of God. To know that He knows the depth of our anguish, our lament.
And then it was the line that I remembered saying to God, so many years ago, as a young woman, heartbroken …
Til I can sing,
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
Whatever my life, you are still my God
It was a moment between my God and I, all those years ago. I was in the depths of despair, and despair is not a enviable place to be. All I knew at the time was that I did not want my sorrow to be out of proportion to my relationship with my heavenly Father. So, I chose a song, an old hymn, and sang it over, and over and over again. And I told my God I would sing the words of confidence until I felt the confidence of those words.
And so I sang the words of Horatio Spafford,
When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul
I do not know how many times I had to sing them over and over until I felt them, knowing that it it truly was well with my soul … whatever my lot. And when I could sing them with conviction, I knew things were righted in my soul and heart, in my life. Not that God was righted, but my very soul was right with God.
Apparently the songwriters of MercyMe also understood the struggle of singing the definitive words, it is well with my soul. So, they wrote the concept of the old hymn into more of a lament, of an ‘in process’ honesty over a ‘I’ve arrived’ hope. It is real … sincere (not that the original hymn is not), relatable.
The thing is it is a reminder of the reality and benefit of lament. Of crying out to God our sorrow, grief and even anger … acknowledging that His shoulders are big enough to handle our human emotions. Acknowledging that, whether we yet feel it or not, our souls are well, and our pursuit is toward righting the reality and the feelings until they are in line with each other.
Laments are prayers that erupt from wounds, burst out of unbearable pain, and bring it to language. Laments complain, shout, and protest. They take anger and despair before God and the community. They grieve. They argue. They find fault. Without complaint there is no lament form. Although laments appear disruptive of God’s word, they are acts of fidelity. In vulnerability and honesty, they cling obstinately to God and demand for God to see, hear, act.
Kathleen O’Connor
itsawonderfilledlife 