"I know it was the blood..."

 

Most of us plead guilty to singing in the shower.  In fact, the only place many of us dare sing is in that safe, compact space where cascading water drowns out the quality of a soprano, tenor, alto, bass, or "whoever I find myself standing closest to," voice. Time, day, or duration doesn't determine when a song might erupt. However, I wonder if occasionally, dear Reader, lyrics bubble up and surprise you,  because they are totally unexpected?  I ask now because lyrics have begun springing forth from within and are puzzling me.

You see, unexpectedly one recent morning, a song from my Mother's era hymnbook began to form silently and internally.  Initially, it sounded little more than a thrum, causing me to pause for only a second, then resume a daily ritual.  Yet, it persisted, and the next thing I knew, I was singing all of "I know it was the blood.  I know it was the blood.  I know it was the blood for me.  One day when I was lost.  He died upon the cross.  I know it was the blood for me."  Loudly and off-key.

Hmm. Where did that come from, and why? Granted, unplanned songs have made their way into my throat off and on for years.  From time to time, snippets from Broadway plays, like "The Wiz, or "Top 40" radio playlists, like "Rescue Me!" would wend in and out of me.  Never anything like a gospel song had ever come forth, though.  Before I knew it, I had started singing a bunch of gospel songs, verses and chorus and all.  The usually quiet shower stall filled with "a joyful noise." 

I sang throughout the rest of my ablutions.  As I dried off, I vaguely recalled having experienced a similar phenomenon whenever a situation or condition troubled, threatened, or plagued my spirits.  For sure, I'd recently been grappling with thorny, personal issues.  Over decades, I'd heard friends or churchgoers boast, "God spoke to me. today." I'd accept their pronouncements while thinking, "Well, He certainly never talks to me! I wonder why." Now I wondered, Had God been speaking to me through songs? Hmm.

I'd believed throughout my childhood that God spoke to Mother and that she always heard him. I also realized Mother and I were as unlike as day from night, north from south, and left from right. Mother knew God loved her.  Me? I wasn't so sure.  God and Mother shared a unique relationship, built on her unyielding, stalwart faith, and God's great faithfulness.  The Bible she read and studied, the hymns and gospel songs she sang,  and the compassion and love she naturally showered on relatives and friends alike, testified to it.  

Mother rested "steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the works of the Lord," (1 Corinthians 15:58). God and Mother's relationship represented the Father's love for His child.  She returned His love as she would softly affirm, "He first loved me."  Mother often sang "To be like Jesus, to be like Jesus.  O how I long to be like Him.  I'm on my journey from earth to glory. O how I long to be like Him!"

And yes, because others would attest to a "God experience," I'd wonder why I never heard God speaking.  Scripture assured all, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know who they are" (John 10:27).  Could that mean I'm not a sheep? Am I hearing-impaired? Or, am I really tone-deaf? For years, my siblings had declared that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket!  In fact, one of them reasoned it accounted for my having been appointed to the junior usher board and not to the junior choir as a soprano, alto, or even a tenor! Hmm.

In the Book of Proverbs, King Solomon advised readers to seek discernment.  Perhaps I had entered this realm because I had consciously surrendered my will and willfulness to God.  Whatever had happened, a sense of peace that surpasses understanding enveloped me like a fine silk cape, and I exhaled.  I await the next download.