“my God, how many are my fears…”

We’re doing a new song this Sunday at my church that’s based on a psalm of lament, and so, appropriately, it’s been translated into our culture’s musical language for sorrow and sadness–the blues.

The band who recorded it made a video about the album, and in it the woman who performs the vocal said that her dad had died just a few days before the session when she sang this.

People in my life–and in yours, too, probably–are struggling with sin, with fear, with doubt, with depression and despair, with life in general. It can be so hard to rejoice in what God has done when it’s so dark that you can’t even see your memories or what God’s doing even while it’s dark. Sometimes, you can’t be joyful and still be honest.

Sometimes, you have to sing the blues.

The thing about God is that He can handle all our sorrows. He can handle all our sadness. In fact, y’all, He has: “Surely He has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows…” He can carry us. I am proof. So you can sing your sorrows without fear–just don’t carry them alone.

“my God, how many are my fears…”

Trinity Sunday

Joel’s last Sunday as an elder at my church. “We kind of have the dandelion method of church growth.” Loud singing. Levi, 2, raising a hand while watching his dad do the same. “Hallelujah, all I have is Christ!” Many thanks. “Blessed assurance–I am my beloved’s and He is mine.” “No power of hell, no scheme of man / Can ever pluck me from His hand.” “This is the body of Christ, broken for you.” Laughter. Tears. Gifts. Goodbyes. Hugs. “Glory be to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit…” Get things from various people–a leftover camp chair, a stroller to be given away. We go to love and serve the Lord. Amen.

Trinity Sunday