While I Wait for My God

Does anybody actually enjoy waiting? I know I don’t. Not in line at Walmart. Not for my food to be delivered to my door. And definitely not for God to hurry up and do what I think should be done in my life or the lives of others. But do you know who invented efficiency? God did! Who created time? Who planned our stories before the foundation of the world was even laid? Who knows exactly what He is doing? God. Our Lord is the Master Economist–He never wastes anything, not even periods of waiting.

While reading the Psalms, I came across a verse that struck me with its relevance, and I just had to write a song about it. Psalm 69:3 “I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.” This whole psalm wrung my heart with the pain David was himself experiencing, pain that caused him to pour out his feelings in thirty-six verses of beautiful and relatable poetry. And what I consider the most singular thing about David’s psalms, is that he never seems to write them with his fist raised in anger towards God, or doubt that the Lord is in control, or bewilderment as to how God could ever be glorified in the midst of his unfair circumstances.

David possessed a rare insight to the heart of God that often eludes even the best of Christians today. He knew, no matter what, that God was God–unaltered and unalterable by situations of man. When David wondered if the Lord would rescue him, he didn’t wonder if God COULD but if He WOULD. He understood that God’s ways are higher and His thoughts wiser than man’s–and if God’s glory would be better served through leaving his servant in distress, then so be it.

David’s psalms tend to end on notes of hope that contrast sharply with his beginning lines of despair. In this specific psalm, he says this–“I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify Him with thanksgiving.” Regardless of his problems, his enemies, or his galling periods of waiting, David kept his lifelong resolve to praise his God–because God was still worthy of praise whether He delivered David from his problems or not.

I don’t feel particularly thankful for the times God keeps me waiting on the next step, the next instructions. Waiting tends to fray the nerves. But, like David, I need to believe that God’s ways are wiser than mine. And if He keeps me waiting longer than I anticipate, the results must be worth waiting for!

Here is my take on Psalm 69:

“While I wait for my God,

While I look for His will,

In the dark of the night,

In the day never still—

Will You hear me, O Lord?

Will You answer with peace?

Will You draw nigh my soul?

Will You bid this storm cease?

“While I sink in deep mire,

While the floods overflow,

When hope’s comfort is gone,

When help’s coming seems slow—

Will You save me, O God?

Will You leave me in shame?

Will You still hide Your face? 

Will You sink me in blame? 

“While I hunger and thirst,

While I fast and I pray,

When I weary of tears,

When I drown in dismay—

Will You see me, O Lord? 

Will You let my heart break? 

Will You comfort me now?

Will You never forsake? 

“While I wait for my God,

While I look for His will,

I will praise Him with song 

Full of thanksgiving still.

For the Lord hears the poor—

Those who call He will save—

He will never forget  

Those He loved and forgave.”

(( Poor recording quality, and I wish there was accompaniment, but here is the tune for the song above!))

The Poetry in Thee

“Poetry,” quoth Carl Sandburg, “is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and unknowable.”

I have loved to read poetry for as long as I can remember being able to read, and I have enjoyed writing poetry since I was about eight years old. Scarcely a handful of my poems would I deem truly readable by others, but that really isn’t the point. I don’t think there was ever a time when I sat down to write a poem with the motive of, say…an architect, bent on designing his magnum opus, a work that would earn him a name in history–or some extra digits in his paycheck. Rather, I was like a teen, given a driving permit, who eyed the open road with the urge to follow it as far as possible to see where it led. Someone once said that we do not write to be understood, but to understand. This is the gift of words. This is the gift of poetry.

I have written about the usual flotsam and jetsam over the years, but the predominant theme of my poetry has been my journey to better understand the God Who created me. And these rhymes are usually accompanied by tunes that turn them into songs. I don’t pretend to know anything about music theory or song writing, but when God sends me ideas, I write them down. I know that anything good in them cannot come from me, but from the Father of lights, who gives every good and perfect gift that we might know and love Him more.

Recently, my Bible reading has been in the Psalms, and I cannot express the pleasure that can be found in them! Every psalm is written like a love song to the Lord–every psalm is like a poem extolling the beauty and glory of God–every psalm is like a treasure map of clues to finding the heart of our Creator. The book of Psalms is like a volume of poetry written about God and for God and by God. Reading through it thrills something deep inside me, calls out everything in me to join David and Ethan and Moses in penning praise to the Chief Musician. Reading the Psalms has helped me understand why I write.

“Thy Word strikes up within me

The sweetest symphony!

The harmony of Heaven 

My humble tune sets free.

Surrounded by such wonders, 

I cannot silent be!

The poetry in Thee calls forth 

The poetry in me. 

“Thy faithfulness and mercy 

For all the world to see–

Thy truth a testimony 

Unstained by sin’s decree–

Thy blood that bought my blessings 

Still speaks from Calvary–

The poetry in Thee calls forth 

The poetry in me.” 

I write poetry, and will continue to write poetry, not to copy others, not to find fame or win wealth or seek significance. I write to learn to understand the Lord and to help others understand Him. As the Psalmist said, “My lips shall utter praise, when thou hast taught me thy statutes.”

“I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations.” ~ Psalm 89:1

Four and Twenty

 

The night before my twenty-fourth birthday I took my pen in hand to detox my soul from a very rough day.

He Loves Me Like That

Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace 
To look through and behind this mask of me 
(Against which years have beat thus blanchingly 
With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face, 
The dim and weary witness of life’s race,—
Because thou hast the faith and love to see, 
Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy, 
The patient angel waiting for a place 
In the new Heavens,–because nor sin nor woe, 
Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighbourhood, 
Nor all which others viewing, turn to go, 
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,–
Nothing repels thee,…Dearest, teach me so 
To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!

Excelsior

Excelsior—
Be this my banner high
Against a lowering sky–
A cause for which to die.

Flood Me

photo by Libby

 

“Flood me, Lord.
Let the vast force of Thy presence
Break upon my soul’s reluctance
Like a wave boils over beaches,
Sifting till soft sand it reaches.

There’s Beauty

“There’s beauty in a soughing wind—
Its merry whistles, mournful sighs;
There’s joy exquisite in a rain
That shoots in sheets from leaden skies.

Poetry

“It starts with something visible,
Or often something audible,