Then Sings My Soul Saturday

Emotions are fickle things. And as women we often tend to give them more weight than we ought, just because they are such an integral part of our daily lives.

This can wreak havoc on our spiritual lives. As long as we are on the mountaintop, we "feel" God's presence, His favor, His peace, His love.

Sadly, once we descend into the valley and the clouds and shadows obscure our vision, we often begin to doubt. Doubt His goodness. Doubt His promises. Doubt our salvation, our faith.

But just as the mountain remains even when covered by fog and clouds, God's covenant of love remains unbroken and He is faithful, even when we don't sense Him.

My mom has struggled with this for 25 years as she has suffered with depression. Coming from the generation where "good Christians" didn't have issues like that, she determined that God had withdrawn His favor from her. And since my grandmother (her mom) was known on occasion to demand ask folks to return her gifts to her when they irked her, it's easy to see how my mom learned to project this characteristic onto her Heavenly Father.

A hymn that has become so dear to me as I have observed this and as I have had my own spiritual ups and downs is the beautiful song O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go. Take a few moments to listen to David Phelps sing about God's steadfast love and worship with me.

O LOVE THAT WILT NOT LET ME GO

O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O Light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

Words: George Matheson, 1882.
Music: Albert Peace, 1884.

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