I was, of all things, looking for a photo, became slightly obsessed with finding it, and ended up going through my old Faith By Choice blog. No, I didn’t find the photo-yet. But I came across this post, one I’d titled I Was Born to Be, and paused to read it. And, because I am compelled to do so, I am sharing it again.
Sometimes in the midst of life we seem to be stranded, unsure of the future, mourning the losses from the past, and wondering, “Lord, why?” Even when things are good, when life is better than it is for so many, we sometimes find that we feel alone, that not even God is aware. And, if you’re like me you write. It used to be songs that I wrote. Now it’s blogs. Or, poor Elsie, emails. But believe me, God Knows!
From Faith By Choice, Jan 18, 2017: I don’t know if it was multiple days of rain, or persistent clouds, or general winter blah, but by the time the sun finally came out today I was not celebrating. Opening shades and windows wasn’t doing it. I was restless, unsettled. I did my study on James, which helped. I did some editing on the novel, which did make me feel like I’d at least accomplished something. I paid a bill and cancelled a couple things that would create bills for next month. But no “real” work came in today. Again. Being self employed is not always easy.
I stood and looked around the apartment and saw all the things that needed done but I couldn’t seem to settle in to get them done. I thought of things I’d like to do, changes I’d like to make, and was tempted to feel discouraged. But I know God is in control and is the very best provider, and I don’t want to grumble or complain. So I told myself to think of things that are true, and honest, and just, and pure, and lovely. . .
Then I noticed the guitar sitting in its stand against the west wall of the apartment. Behind it was the notebook of worship songs MB had given me. I thought, well, I haven’t practiced for a while, maybe I’ll see if the hands are working today.
I was pleased, and a bit surprised, to see I was having no trouble with the chords. Trying to sing along was hilarious, but no one could hear me. (I hope) I went through a few songs, warming up, and then I hit one of my favorites and found myself sitting up straighter and smiling and singing notes that were almost on key.
Then I got to the song. A song I hadn’t played, or even heard, in at least ten years. I started finger picking it, something I’m way out of practice doing, but it was working and something inside of me was stirring. As I sang, the tears started and sometimes the words just couldn’t come out, but I kept on, half laughing at myself, half in awe that God would touch me with a simple little song. It was like an embrace, a reassurance that He knows what I need, when I need it.
“For I was born to be, your dwelling place, a home for the presence of the Lord, so let my heart now be, separated unto thee, that I might be what I was born to be.”