Waiting and Letting Go

Last week I wrote a letter to a friend lamenting. "I have been waiting... (for this, for that)" and ended it with "I'm letting go." So much disappointment can come when we try to hold too tightly to something or someone we don't want to lose. I was reminding myself that holding on can do more damage and create more hurt than that which I fear. Especially when we don't really have a choice.

So I hold memories. Sweet memories of the gift someone or something has been in my life. I go to that tender, nostalgic place to visit and I express deep gratitude for that person or experience or series of experiences. But I can't stay there. I need to let go.

Lately, though, while I knew I needed to let some things and people go, I also didn't really have a clear direction in which to move. It's like letting a balloon go, expecting it to fly away and it drops to your feet instead.

That's where it requires discipline not to pick it up again and instead, wait on the Lord for what comes next. Be still and know letting go was right, be still and know that God is God, be still and trust his plans for hope and a future. Be still and do the next thing: whatever is in front of me to do.

Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly, Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
.
Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.
.
Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart
And all is darkened in the vale of tears;
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.
Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
From His own fulness all He takes away.
.
Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Catharine Amalia Dorothea von Schlegel, 1752; Translated by Jane Borthwick, 1855

Read the words again. Dwell on them. Did you see it?

Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
from His own fullness all He takes away.

No one else completes me. No possession comforts me. No experience sates my appetite for the one God-shaped vacuum in my being. Only Jesus, in all his fullness and love can complete me (Colossians 2:10).

On Saturday my father in law sang a song for a friend's 80th birthday. On Sunday, the pastor for whom I work quoted the same song in his message on anxiety and fear from the story when Jesus calmed the storm.

All the way my Savior leads me,
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;

All the way my Savior leads me,
Oh, the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages:
Jesus led me all the way.

Frances J. Crosby 

And today, in a third reminder, a friend (who knew nothing of my feelings about "waiting" and "letting go") shared a new song with me. What are the words about? Waiting and letting go, allowing myself to surrender to the love of Jesus. I share it with you. Enjoy.

What God Has Promised

I was thinking this morning about how I so often number my trials instead of my blessings. How quick and easy it is to start making a list of all the things that go wrong but how long it takes to make a list of things for which to be grateful.

One of my friends just lost her sister in law who died unexpectedly. My friend is grieving so much, and my heart breaks for her. When I am in need of comfort, I often think of the hymn, "What God Hath Promised" by Annie Johnson Flint.

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.


God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.


God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river, turbid and deep.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

You can listen to the modern version of the music here.

While the words of this song are themselves an encouraging reminder, I came across Annie's biography and some other poetry she wrote and realize she, more than anyone, probably struggled to stay positive. She suffered terribly from crippling arthritis, yet her songs are uplifting and encouraging.

Annie Johnson Flint was born on Christmas eve in 1866, at Vineland, NJ. Her mother died when she was three, soon after the birth of her sister. Her father sent the two girls to live with a widow of a Civil War friend, but the woman had few resources and two children of her own. As a result, the Johnson girls were unwelcome and neglected. A neighbor saw the situation and introduced Annie’s father to a Mr. and Mrs. Flint, who had no children and wanted to adopt the two girls. Annie's father was gravely ill and consented, dying about a year later. At the age of eight, Annie came to faith in Jesus Christ. When she was nine, she began to put words together in rhyme and rhythm, and by age twelve she was setting poems to music. As a teenager she wanted to become a concert pianist and composer, but when she was in her early twenties the Flints both died, leaving her without means to continue her education.

Shortly before her adoptive parents’ deaths, Annie started having trouble with arthritis and became unable to play the piano, so she was left with one mode of expression, writing poetry, as a replacement for her musical ambitions. In addition, Annie’s sister was not well and could not help take care of her, and at the age of 23, Annie was unable to continue working and in less than five years she could not even walk. Left without financial support and personal care, she would push a pen through her bent fingers or use her knuckles to strike typewriter keys, though often in great pain, to produce poems for use on greeting cards, on wall hangings, and in magazines. "What God Hath Promised," written in 1919, is one of her best-known poems and she also wrote “He Giveth More Grace.” She died Sept. 8, 1932, at Clifton Springs, NY.

In spite of her immense suffering, Annie’s poems are bubbling over with the joy of life and praise for the love of God. Her life shows that in the midst of suffering, one can still name blessings and gifts. When there is rain, dark storm clouds and pain in my life, can I follow in her footsteps?

Lord, may I rely on your grace to do so.

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

Come thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver,

Born a Child and yet a King.

Born to reign in us for ever,

Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.

By Thine own eternal Spirit

Rule in all our hearts alone;

By Thine all-sufficient merit

Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Words: Charles Wesley, first published 1744 in a small collection of poems titled Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord

Music: Hyfrydol, composed 1830 by Rowland H. Prichard, age 20

Broken Christmas

I miss family and tradition most at Christmas.

My family was in ministry as I was growing up. We traveled and sang in different churches, up to 200 per year. At Christmastime, we were always traveling, often to the southern states. While this musical venture provided many wonderful opportunities, it meant the traditions of holidays enjoyed by others were not part of our upbringing.

I do remember decorating the house for Christmas, the silver tree with rotating colored spotlights, the indoor/outdoor light garland around the picture window, rolling/cutting/baking Peppernuts (a nut-sized cookie enjoyed by the handful), vain attempts at making divinity which never turned out like Mom thought it should and "New Years Cookies" which were actually deep-fried dumplings made of sweet dough with raisins, then tossed in a sugar mixture.

As an adult with my own home and family, traditions have not been easily established. There are just the three of us and we have never had a larger family Christmas with immediate relatives. We have built our lives into our church family and often enjoyed Christmas dinner with friends and other "orphans" who didn't have family close by.

As a result, as Christmas approaches each year, it brings mixed emotions. This year seems more challenging than others as Facebook is full of those speaking of their plans. We've made plans too, and they will be wonderful. But I wonder if sometimes those plans are a diversion away from the entire point of Christmas: that Jesus came to seek and save those who are lost, broken, orphaned, hurt, bitter, disapointed.

My Christmas prayer is that I will see the beauty of Christ through my own brokenness, knowing he came to redeem that and use, for his own purposes, this orphan who seeks the light that shines through eternity from that first Christmas.

In Brokenness You Shine

When life becomes a shattered dream
That's slipping through my trembling hands
I need to know that You are near
To know You see each falling tear
When there is no one else who understands

When I can't find the words to speak
You hear the pain in each heart beat
Before I even call to You
In my deepest hour of need
That's when You come and pour Your mercy on me

Your beauty shines
Your love surrounds
Where cries of brokenness are found bring hope alive
Help me believe
And trust You one more time
In brokenness You shine
In brokenness You shine

Let comfort be a living thing
A river flowing from my grief
Where thirsty souls can drink their fill
And find in You their heart's release
And through my sorrow show Your freedom and hope

How could I know when others said
A word or two then walked away
That you, the Man of Sorrows
Would come near to stay
You'll always stay

I want to see
Your beauty one more time
In brokenness You shine
In brokenness You shine

Words by Steve Green and Doug McKelvey*
Music by Bernie Herms
© 2005 Birdwing Music (admin. By EMI CMG Publishing) / Steve Green Music (admin. By EMI CMG Publishing) / ASCAP / LyricHead.com Songs / BMI / Banahama Tunes (admin. by The Loving Company) / ASCAP

*Lyrics from Steve Green Ministries Website, accessed Dec. 20, 2009

Welcome to the Place of Level Ground

An excerpt from a new song by Brian Doerksen:

Welcome to the place of level ground
Welcome to the place where grace abounds
We all need mercy

Welcome to the place where none can boast
Welcome to the place compassion grows
We all need mercy

None of us are worthy on our own
None of us could keep the perfect law
None of us have lived a sinless life

But thanks be to God
He sent us all a Saviour.
Jesus Christ, the only God of grace.

Video available here.