I heard the most beautiful song on the radio the other day. Immediately, after just a few words, I turned the song up and tears–uncontrollable tears–began to flow. I had not heard anything so perfect in so long. The words flowed beautifully, as if they were my own, on point, expressing all that I was feeling and had been feeling for a long time.
I don’t know about you but, I have spent many nights trying to pray a powerful enough prayer that would make God move or at least let me know in some way he was listening and that he heard me. When I failed at that I found myself desiring a good cleansing cry like the ones I used to have when I was feeling lost, alone and without any idea what to do about whatever situation I had found myself. There were those nights when tears simply would not come. It was like I was all cried out. There were times when I simply sat on the side of the bed and asked out loud: “why should I bother?” By then, I was tired and desperate to give up, secretly hoping God would feel sorry for me, and change his mind about the place he’d allowed me to be. I didn’t want to be tested anymore and I didn’t want to keep trying.
I’d realized I’d been trying to do everything I thought God wanted of me and none of my expectations had been met. I was still where I started and still in my mind no better off. There were no tears. There were no prayers. There was nothing–not even praise that I could give even for the breaths I was taking while I was trying to quit. Inspiration had escaped me. I felt unworthy to go to God in prayer. Then, I remembered grace.
What do we give to the Lord who has given us so much? How do we fail repeatedly to pray, to acknowledge God and his wonderful work in our life? How is it we rise from restful slumber to start off our days without so much as a “hello Father”? How are we so busy day in and out that by weeks-end, we’re too tired to go to church to worship the true and living God? When did everything else become so important?
As Christians, I think we will all have these feelings sometimes. I think we will all feel like we are failing miserably as children of God. It is songs like the one I heard on the radio that day that remind me in another of the many ways God communicates with me that he is well aware of where I am, how I feel and what I need. He knows. He’s there. No matter how I am feeling, he wants me to come and to keep coming. He wants me to give him a chance to love me, hug me, rock me to peaceful sleep, and envelop me in a gentle breeze that lets me know all is well whether it looks like it or not.
Take me to the King where at his feet while I am alone, I can lay my self, my broken spirit, my lonely heart, and my troubled mind.