Superlative

I tend to be pretty attached to the hymn lyrics I grew up with.  And why wouldn't I be? They are, of course, the right ones.  So when there's a change, I tend to need some persuasion.  If I'm involved in worship leading, then I will certainly always sing what is required of me, but if I'm with the congregation, I'm usually stubborn enough to sing my own textus receptus rather than what is on the screen when there is a variance.

But we've got one coming up that I am ready to concede. I grew up with "Savior, like a shepherd lead us. Much we need Thy tender care."  And a quick survey suggests that this does seem to be the dominant reading.  However, the hymnal used as the primary hymn reference at our church renders it "…much we need Thy tend'rest care."

The first couple of times I noticed the variance, I didn't pay any special attention.  But then that change hit me hard right in the heart.  I realized that I have recently received His tenderest care.  In the wake of a personal crisis, my husband, who is always a nice guy, cared for me in an unprecedented way.  I received acts of kindness from dear sisters, and many words of care and kindness from the few people who knew about my need.

I feel like I have been buoyed up by that tenderest care, and once again, through tears, I remember that it is His kindness that leads us to repentance and I see the ways I fail to offer tender care, and try to bring about repentance through wrath or shame rather than through kindness. Lord, have mercy, and guide me in the paths of righteousness.

There It Is Again

Over and over again for the last several months, two themes keep presenting themselves any time I seek to encounter God. I spent at least one blog entry mulling over the first of these themes: faith and trust versus fear. It feels like I keep seeing lyrics around this theme coming up over and over again in our corporate worship, and it shows up again full force in the songs our church will be singing this coming Sunday.

A few weeks ago, an unexpected situation cropped up in my life, and it scared me. I think that had it continued, the focus on trust and on releasing your life to Christ, on our lives not being our own would have practically overwhelmed me, because those were exactly the issues I had to look squarely in the face while that situation continued. But that particular situation came to an end, and while I doubt I am any more full of faith than I was three weeks ago, I think I can at least make it through the song service on Sunday.

But one of our other songs this week isn't necessarily so focused on trust, though it certainly is focused on submission of our wills and our lives.

The song "Inside Out" by Sheryl Thomas and Randy Gill, which has been around a bit over a year, will be receiving its congregational premier at our church Sunday. This video includes this song. If you forward to about 1:40 into it, that will land you at the beginning of "Inside Out."

The first few times we practiced this song, I suppose I was pretty focused on the music, because the lyrics weren't necessarily sinking in. But early this week, I listened to it at home and was able to be a little more focused. It turns out the the second verse, which addresses the second of the themes that constantly show up as I seek Jesus, pretty much stopped me in my tracks.

What my pride conceals, Lord, Your truth reveals,

And Your grace is seen somehow

There is mercy when, in spite of who I've been,

Your glory dwells within me now.

When ever I focus long enough to think about such things, it seems to me like doubt and pride are truly the two basic sins, and I think that even doubt can be traced back to pride. Over and over I'm confronted with my pridefulness. I fight pretty hard to keep those things concealed and am generally not interested in having them revealed. That's why that verse stopped me. Your grace is seen somehow. You are glorified in spite of who I've been.

That, to me, is pretty powerful stuff. Being turned inside out is not likely to be pleasant. I believe I need stretched and bent out of shape a bit before I can withstand the total inside out process. But certainly that's what it takes for Jesus to be seen. I suppose I still harbor some sort of idea that I can be good enough to reflect Jesus. Pridefully idiotic, isn't it?

Oh, Lord, please continue to reveal what I conceal from even myself in my pride. I know You are still chipping away. Give me strength to stand still and take it. All the good in me is Jesus, and how much more of that Good I need.