My Deliverer

The  writing continues. The music and most elements having to do with the hard scape is set, but the text…I’ve written so many verses, I’ll have to cull some for continuity, or what I call, good story telling.

Helping me keep the faith on this journey of a lifetime, is a full-time job for God.  I have a tendency of running ahead of God on any journey.  If you had or have a child with the affinity of wandering off, you know what I mean. But for this 61 year old, the song-writing process isn’t any different. I start out with every good intention of following Him, but for whatever reason, still run ahead, until what’s ahead is unfamiliar and a little scary looking for me. 

Maybe this was the inspiration for my most recent song, “My Deliverer.” I can never anticipate where the inspiration will come from, but looking back, the sources have echoed moments in my prayer life, milestones, both pleasant and difficult, and celebrations. Melodies usually come first, then choruses, then verses out of a nebula of ideas/themes/catch phrases. This particular project stands on a phrase, “Things aren’t always what they may appear.”. When I’m ‘called’ to work on a project, it turns into a battle for my attention, as the process can overwhelm me. I lean on Him heavily to keep a balance in my life between my creative thoughts and the more mundane activities that press upon each of our lives. I mean, there’s only so long you can ignore the laundry before you have an underwear crisis brewing. Really.

Despite my plethora of song verses I’ll have to review, I am learning to wait on Him. And when I do, what unusual paths He leads me on, only because more often than not, how I perceive the finished work, always pales in comparison to the completion of what He has endeavored me to do. It’s so satisfying when a project is finished…I just need to remember what’s waiting for me while the process is still in process.

I do not write because it’s my vocation. I do not have a degree in creative writing.  Call it my cross to bear, or a calling – probably 100% both if there could be such a thing. I do not feel gifted and work hard to craft anything I write.  I’m not a great conceptual thinker – you only need read any of my blogs for confirmation of that truth.

The only interest that I have in it is that it is a God-thing. I feel compelled and can not rest until what He has given me to do is done. God is like that, too. I like to say that God is always up to something. He will not stop until what He has begun is finished. But He has a peace-filled way of completing His works.  I’d like to think that is one (of many) qualities He is working to produce in me. 

Even my nights are God’s to speak into my heart. He operates from His place of perfect peace, but for me the urgency that necessitates keeping a well-stocked stack of scrap paper and a pencil, where others might keep their cellphone, on my bedside table, facilitates making it possible for me to capture thoughts that come to mind before they disappear into my brain fog of early morning. 

I could say here that having scrap paper at hand for night time ‘scribbles’ is an act of obedience or some other such lofty motive, but for me, that’s too sterile. My life is a mess and He knows it. Confronting those messes can be messy. (Deep, right?) And we can make our lives even messier when we toddle off on our own pathways. It can get pretty scary-dark when we lose sight of His light.

Still, He’s there always within ear shot – waiting for our cry.  And like a child who has been separated from a mama or papa by wandering off, finding the familiar gone and only unfamiliar and scary surroundings to be seen, I knew I was that child who, once again, had run ahead.

I could not see Him, but He could see me and with the kind of mercy and grace that led me to add the words, “What have I to fear?” to the song text, He came and invited me to follow Him to stand as one would stand in a dappled rain-dropped woodland glen. And as the light streamed through the tree canopy, we listened. And I heard the faint echo of what my heart had prayed that same morning… “Lord, help me to say what is real. Help me to be courageous enough to reach into those well guarded areas of my life that only You and I know about.” And there it was. In that moment, in that beautiful, holy place, I saw through His eyes how someday it will be. It’s messy now, but,  “I’m certain I’ll be delivered…’cause my Deliverer is here.”.