I’m going to be completely honest with you.
(I think it was one of my rhetoric profs in college who said you should never, ever start a sentence with “I’m going to be honest with you…” because then your reader will assume that up to this point, you have been LYING. But I hope you know me well enough to know that 1) I haven’t been lying; and 2) this is going to be good.)
I did not want to get out of bed this morning. As much as I love our church, I did not want to go. I wanted to sleep. I really, really wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. I didn’t sleep well last night – blame it on the stress of this last week or the Pork Lo Mein I had for dinner last night – and the last thing I wanted to do was get up, put on makeup, find a way to make my overdue-for-a-haircut hair behave on a rainy morning, dress myself in something other than my fuzzy pajamas pants, get everyone in the car, and go sing songs and listen to a half-hour speech on something that will likely put me to sleep. I would rather stay in my bed, in my pajamas, and sleep there.
But because this is what we do – we get up and go to church – I made myself put my feet on the floor and get moving.
This has been one of those weeks. We are still in the process of getting the house ready to sell, and because I am one of those perfectionist-types, it has been painful. Gretchen reminded me that what doesn’t kill us will make us stronger, and we are VERY VERY STRONG – but I don’t feel any stronger, so I think this may actually kill me.
(It very well could be my own family that does the deed.)
(I can’t say that I blame them. I haven’t been much fun to be around lately.)
So I dragged myself to church this morning – late, of course – but as I found my seat and the congregation was singing Your grace is enough, I felt my tense muscles relax and my anxious, shallow breath deepen.
This is exactly where I needed to be.
Music heals me in a way that nothing else can – and when God infuses music with the anointing oil of His presence and the truth of who He is – oh, wow. I could practically feel the oil oozing over my head and filling in all the cracks.
(No comments about my cracked head, please. I am fully aware of how cracked I am, thankyouverymuch.)
I am by nature a fairly skeptical person. I don’t take anything at face value without thoroughly examining it. I don’t like feeling emotionally manipulated, especially in a worship service. But I do believe God created us as emotional creatures (some more than others. Hello fellow drama queens!), and that He can use those emotions to genuinely, authentically draw us to Him and show us His truth.
I know I’m not the only one who has been broken by this past week. Some of my dearest friends are holding up the weight of circumstances far heavier than the pithy stress of selling a house. You might be one of them.
So for you, my friend, I leave you with this. Let the oil of God’s healing presence and truth ooze over your head and your heart. Let it fill in the cracks and hold you together. Take some deep breaths and catch a whiff of who He is.
It’s going to be OK.