Thursday, August 8, 2013

A New Song

I remember early days where God made appearances and provoked curiosity and I knew He was good.

I remember and realize now that these days were indeed a passionate pursuit by a Savior who just wanted to know me, who just wanted to love me crazy, who just wanted to heal me, yucky sins and all.

I remember the old wooden smell of the Catholic church, the way my young eyes widened at the beauty of a sunset framed in a stain-glass window exploding with rainbow and vibrant and what I  imagined Heaven's light would be like.

I remember the taste of the Communion host, plain yet wholesome, subtly special; the after-mass games of tag whipping around the row of flower and shrubbery lining the ramp to the church doors, shrieking with delight, celebrating life and God and family and love and we-didn't-know-what, it was just giggles at dusk.

And I remember this song. Sung with my Mamaw's lovely song-bird vibrato up on the altar,

"Sing a new song unto the Lord,
Let your song be sung from mountains high!
Sing a new song unto the Lord,
Singing Hallelujah!"

What is the new song? I always wondered.

Today it all becomes clear, crystal, in a pristine washing of a soul muddied with fears and doubts, anxieties about a new school though the excitement also sparkles in eyes searching in for God's plan in the abyss of this next chapter, knowing I cannot see it now, but faith promises it is so, so good, and I am safe in Him.

"He taught me to sing a new song,
a new song of praise to our God." 
-Psalm 40:3a

Ah. Praise. 

Afterall, Hallelujah is "God be Praised," or "Highest Praise."

Something that seems so easy to do, but is so underdeveloped in my prayer life. It sounds like guilt, it sounds like shame to me, when I think about how I have trouble praising the God who has given everything and has bestowed endless love around me and it's so simple to find it everywhere, right?

And I see it is just like everything else in this life, the praise is not even mine to develop. Again I see it is grace, and He will teach  me, and this is the newness I needed that He offers, this is the refreshment I long for and He died to give: just to praise Him. Just to open up my day with the mercy found in praise. 

And sitting there in the favorite part of my day, morning soft with scripture abounding and coffee warming and pen searching an empty page for prayers and answers and relationship with Jesus Christ, 

sitting there I simply praise. 

Nothing complicated. Nothing sophisticated, elaborate, or embellished. No regimentation, no organization, just whatever comes to mind, because there is no right form of praise that will impress Him more than the next from a genuine heart made new. 

For the bird chirps all distinct and different.

For the promise of true love no matter what I look like.

For bright flowers blooming and the smell of fresh mulch after rain.

For my Dad's car there in the driveway, home safe and sound.

For the trial of my disorder so I can know the depth of Your love, the wild of Your mercy, the radical of Your grace.

For my sore, healthy muscles from a workout.

For the shocking pink of the hanging flowers.

For the buzz of airplanes keeping us safe overhead.

For the rustle of leftover rain dripping from the trees. 

For the jumpy birds hopping on the birdfeeder.

For the shade of purple polish on my toenails. 

 For Your constant love, Your righteousness, Your generosity, Your forgiveness, Your taking of my confession and whipping it 'till sin has perished and the Holy Spirit wins again.

Nothing too high above anyone, right where they are, just a new song to live by, to love by, to smile and dance in, to be wrapped with and not underestimate the power of His praises. 
One of my favorite authors has committed a pen to paper and that paper to a book and that book to the cultivation of hearts for thanking the Lord. 

She couldn't have said it better, what I am discovering here in this new song:

"And when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me."
-Ann Voskamp, "One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are"

Hallelujah. 
  
 

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