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 Oh Lord, Have Mercy!

"Oh, Lord have mercy," a venerable hymn hums softly in my spirit and carries an irony that glares out at me.   I wondered, can irony "glare"? Does irony,  representing as it does"my truth," appropriately serve my lament? Maybe "stirs up" more appropriately captures childhood memories of  Mother's early morning prayer and what it portended.  I intuited the day's hurdles or promises in her choice of opening hymn. 

Interestingly, the "Blues" dared not escape from Mother's mouth.  Only hymns, gospel, and praise lyrics occupied her playlist.  She knew the historic, "Old One Hundreds," which testified to her faith and God's preeminence. I recognized staples like, "Father Alone, He Knows All About It," "The Old Rugged Cross," and  "Up Above My Head" as they flowed forth effortlessly.

Any song on Mother's playlist served as her North Star; they eased unexpected disappointments, aborted activities, and endangered dreams.

Unknowingly, I must have inherited the sing-your-way-to-sunlight-gene, although not as completely as Mother.  Years before awareness and discernment enlightened my thoughts, I started managing stress by singing and humming.  Certainly, I sang joyfully on the rare occasions when God's embrace wrapped me in victory over disturbing circumstances; then, I made a "joyful noise unto the Lord." 

But. But.  But.  Fears rarely abated long enough for me to sustain a carefree deep breath.  Something, perhaps the fear of the other shoe dropping, always stopped me.  Unease worsened after Courtney died.  This morning, I woke up in the throes of impotency, the aftermath of a dream I couldn't recapture.  "Help me, Lord! I cried aloud, "Help me!"

Hmm. Well, at least I'd finally been able to understand and articulate my feelings of helplessness, uncertainty,  and abandonment.  No, I hadn't entertained the notion that God had abandoned or deserted me.  "I will never leave or forsake you," echoed in my head like a metronome.  It intermingled with the assurance in Deuteronomy 31:16 and Hebrews 13:5 that: "I will never leave you alone, never!  And I will not loosen my grip on your life!"

Then, why do I end up most recent days entwined in a jumbled skein of prayer requests, fear, impatience, wavering belief, and "the dithers"? Of them all, fear predominates.  Why? Who knows? Before I learned about fear and faith in Church, my social studies classes had imprinted  President Franklin Roosevelt's counsel, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," not only in the national psyche but more importantly, in mine!  Except that, I feared the very thought of fear!

Fear remains, rankles,  and rises. My world has never been as calm as my craving for it remains.  I exemplify "the best-laid plans of mice and men" cohort.  Typically, I get in God's way. I ask, filled with the wavering and doubt James warns about.  Then, why am I surprised when I get the results I get?  James 1:4, The Passion (Bible) Translation (tPt),  explains, "When you are half-hearted and wavering it leaves you unstable.  Can you really expect to receive anything from the Lord when you're in the condition?"

Hmm.

As a former schoolteacher who served decades in classrooms, why haven't I mastered universal principles of learning, at least?  Yet, my path looms straighter and clearer now.  Jesus counseled in Matthew 7:7 to "Ask, seek, and find."  Removing debris, some decades old; and waiting on the Lord, as the prophet Isaiah states, do much for discernment, and remind me to lean not to my own understanding (Isaiah 40:31).   Excellent advice! That sounds like as good a place as any to start think I'll take it and try my best to keep it, this time.  "Pray my strength in the Lord," as members of my childhood church would request.