P.S. I took the photo above on a particularly glum day last week. The fog had set in heavy and it was far too chilly to go outside. I was in a sports bra, baggy tee and not-allowed-into-town leggings and it seemed like there was no chance of escaping the day. So, while preparing lunch we tuned into Pandora and Come Thou Fount began playing. Day, redeemed.
Come thou fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing thy grace
Streams of mercy never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise
Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above
I’ll praise the mount I’m fixed upon it
Mount of thy redeeming love
Here I raise my Ebenezer
Hither by thy help I come
And I hope by thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home
Jesus sought me when a stranger
Wondering from the fold of God
He, to rescue me from danger
Interposed His precious blood
O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!
Let thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee
Prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above
Hymns move my heart. The words and phrases speak such truth. The kind of truth that transcends generations. Over the years I’m sure this hymn, Come Thou Fount, has rocked many a world. Lately, these words have been my prayer …
“Lord, tune my heart to sing thy grace”, grace with my children, with my husband, with strangers.
“Lord, take my heart, my wandering heart and bind it to thee”, it’s unruly how natural it is to wander. To run from the Lord, rather than to Him when I get frustrated, lonely, ashamed.
“Lord, here’s my heart”, my longing heart, my hurting heart, my open heart. First and foremost, I pray to fill it with your love, your glory, your compassion – to leave the mess and allow you to shape me whole once again.
Often I feel guilty over my lack of “quiet time”. I’m participating in a Bible study at church on Wednesday evenings (Beth Moore’s David), but haven’t made my daily homework a priority. It’s just hard with two babies. I hate using them as an excuse, but with my mini-me and mr. no nap it just doesn’t happen. So, I’ve adapted what quiet time means to me. For this season, it isn’t sitting alone with my Bible and journal. Right now, it’s worship music. It’s talking about who Jesus is with Jemma. It’s talking aloud to the Lord when I need strength, confirmation, and hope. It’s pacing in the back of the sanctuary with Max on Sundays. This is a unique season and one I’m sure I’ll look back on fondly when no one is pulling at my pant leg during the Bible and journal time that will return someday.
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