Tonight, I want to sing but I am tired. I’ve missed singing, but this evening all I want is a lullaby sung over me.
This Sunday evening puts to rest an intense week. It was full of physical activity and emotional draw in my workplace, as well as precious too-little time with family who lives too far away. The timing of it all coincided with the anniversary of this week last year when breast cancer was lurking in the shadows of my mammogram for a second time in four years.
In the week that preceded July 12 (my mammogram date last year), my beloved old devotionals that I am rereading this year were in hindsight, amazingly full of preparation for what was coming. As I have again read the daily portions and the accompanying scripture verse for each July selection, I know my Abba cares so much for me that He was feeding my soul and my mind in a painstaking way last year, though I did not know its purpose at the time.
But my spirit knew, and it recognizes and remembers this season I’ve entered a year later. Therapists call it ‘body memories.’ Theologians may call it ‘the echo’ of a dark night of the soul. I simply call it the ‘song for a desert bride.’
Another day I will sing. Praise will flow from my lips in fresh expressions. I will continue discovering just how deeply my Beloved has betrothed me to Himself. I will sing and I will write.
For tonight, though, my Beloved is doing the singing. Verse after verse He sings to me in this season of remembrance, the story of His great love and His delight in how we have come through – together.
“The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)
That’s my kind of lullaby.
He is singing over you as well. No respecter of persons, He sings your story too. I hope you’re listening…He loves to sing His beloved to sleep.
Resting between His shoulders,