Heart's Cry

Just another post similar this one from the end of August. I've been finding this newly released track stuck in my head a lot recently. I think the chorus expresses very well the truth that all creation groans for redemption (Romans 8:19-22).


We wake in the night in the womb of the world
We beat our fists on the door
We cannot breathe in this sea that swirls
So we groan in this great darkness
For deliverance
Deliverance, O Lord

One line that particularly sticks out to me comes close to the end, "we cannot sing with these broken lungs." It might not mean a lot to you, but I absolutely love to sing, and one of the ways I can tell that this illness is still hanging on is that I haven't been able to sing for months. So while I listen to others sing and long to do so myself, I groan with all of creation.

Anyway... enough from me... listen to Andrew Peterson! I think this song will appeal to more readers than the last video I posted :)

Feeling Invisible

Have you ever felt that you had a physical invisible need? I've felt invisible needs many times. While trying to simply stand in line during airport security. While trying to make the quickest escape possible without answering any questions. While trying to graciously hang up the phone on a person who just wouldn't stop talking, even though I'd insisted many times I needed to go. While trying to seek solitude, quiet, and peace.

What about emotionally? Sometimes we have invisible emotional needs as well. We need a hug, but everyone thinks we look fine. We need a shoulder to cry on, even though there's nothing really that's happened, we just need to cry. We need someone to listen instead of talk; to comfort instead of chide.

The problem is, invisible physical needs often feed invisible emotional needs. When we can't escape that physical situation, emotional trauma is inflicted as privacy is continually violated, requests are repeatedly refused, non-negotiables are compromised, and attempts at non-verbal or verbal communication seem to fail. And the body seems to have a back-log. If you don't deal with the stress and trauma of one situation, it spills over for days, weeks, months - ignored, but unresolved and still present.

Sometimes this invisible illness and invisible pain make us as individuals begin to feel invisible. I've been feeling that way a lot recently - invisible to the rest of the world. It's one reason I haven't been blogging. But when I feel that way, I am so thankful that I have friends (especially Isaac) who will support me, uphold me, and tell me they love me... and that I am not invisible to them. There's also a great song (called "Invisible" - how fitting) that reminds me of this. I've mentioned it before in a post (with two other great songs). I didn't post the video before, but since its almost Invisible Illness Week, I figured it was a good time. It might not be a style many of you readers will particularly enjoy, so I don't blame you if you don't listen to it, but please just watch the lyrics or look them up. Even if you have never felt this way, it might give you a little bit of insight into my world. And if you are a fellow invisible-illness friend... let me say what no one else may have told you... you're not invisible to me.

 

O Lord... You Know...

"God will not hold us responsible to understand the mysteries of election, predestination and the divine sovereignty. The best and safest way to deal with these truths is to raise our eyes to God and in deepest reverence say, 'O Lord, Thou knowest.' Those things belong to the deep and mysterious profound of God’s omniscience. Prying into them may make theologians, but it will never make saints." (A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God, p. 64)

Can you hear the groans - the groans of sinners and saints everywhere?

This life hurts. It is painful. I want out. Why? Where is God? Why did He do that? Why does He allow... even ordain... pain?

My heart can hear those groans. It can also sense divine comfort in the midst of groans, but the groans cannot be ignored.

It takes time to surrender to sovereignty. And right now, I can only lift my hands heavenward and say, "O Lord... You know...." Because He does know. He knows more than I do. And He's up to something heavenly.

 

Psalm 130 - Out of the Depths

Favorite lines:

"And all my questions that are unresolved

don't change the wisdom of Your will."

This song has always been a challenge to me since the first time I heard it. Do I wait for my God more than watchman for the morning? Do I wait for Him at all? Or do I stamp my foot, cross my arms, and demand a hearing? Do I cry out of the depths, or remain silent? Do I remember that His mercy covers my sin?

This song has been a good one for me to go to this week. Horace has been around a bit (he's my chronic headache, for those of you who haven't been properly introduced yet) and beyond Horace I have this horrible ache in my brain itself that seems to have started since Sunday PM. Its as though I can feel inflammation in my brain itself... and it hurts! I would be thankful if it would just go away... but that might not serve my God's will and purpose... so I am posting this song as a true expression of the wish and prayer of my heart. I hope it ministers to and challenges You as much as it has me! 

Three Encouraging Songs

Dear X, You Do Not Own Me - The first time I heard this song, I loved it. Which, if you know my musical tastes, is a little bit surprising, because this is not really my style. I loved the fighting spirit behind it most, and also the defiant declaration, "You, pain, hate, shame, anger, do not, cannot, and will not control or define my life." So let it be recorded here, "Dear ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis), you do not own me."

Invisible - Another surprising like. This song first attracted my attention a few months ago when I was considering self-harm because there was so much sin in my life and so much distance between me and God. I did feel invisible - to God, to my friends who were living normal lives while I was sick, to my parents and family, and to the world. What would it matter if I sought an outlet - even a destructive one - in order to help me cope with that pain? Listening to this song and watching some of the music videos from YouTube reminded me that people deal with pain on a daily basis all over the world... and sometimes, all it takes is one person who cares to help that other person feel and know the love of Christ. All it takes is one person to care to stop someone from harming him or herself. I found that one person for me, and realised... there was more than just one. People cared. My friends who I thought hardly remembered I existed called me, sent me books, tea, and notes, and baked special cookies that I could eat. And then, I realised that it was possible for people I didn't really know, but who were part of the body of Christ, to also care deeply. I am so thankful for these people who showed me I was not invisible to them, or to God, and who demonstrated that they loved me.

You Are More - I also first listened to this song when I was considering self-harm. So many things about this song impacted me. The main thing was that... it was so... me. It described everything I was feeling ("she's heard all the answers, she's rehearsed all the lines, but she can't shake the feeling that it's not true tonight"). And it described everything that I was hoping someone would come and tell me, but that no one person was ("this is not about what you've done, but what's been done for you; this is not about where you've been, but where your brokenness brings you to"). I clung to this song while wondering if I really was remade, if I was saved, if I could have any hope. I am so happy... that I am more. Because what's been done for me, where my brokenness brings me, and what it took to forgive me all point to one place - and that is the bloody cross, where Jesus died to pay for my sins and correct my mistakes and make the right choices when I utterly failed.