I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes to the Hills

Sometimes it seems as though down is up and up is down.  That has been kinda what's going on for me for the past couple of days.  I have begun to settle with some news that I didn't want to hear.  The harsh realities of unemployment are beginning to set in.  Getting up and at 'em in the morning is coming a bit easier.   But the sadness lingers, then turns to anger, then calls for forgiveness, and then becomes sadness again.  It is quite an interesting journey.  My mind begs for closure and my heart rebels.  The question of fairness has long since been erased from my mind.  It's like being on an emotional and psychic roller coaster that won't stop.  Down is still up.  Up is still down.  Or so it seems.

For the past few days, I have been experimenting with my own faith.  Sure, faith is easy to profess when times are easy and everything is going my way.  But in the midst of darkness, when hope is lost and the way is unclear, can I still summon my faith?  That has been the meditation on my heart for the past few days.  The truth of the matter is a bit of yes and a bit of no.  But on balance, I'd say my faith is intact.

Yesterday, I was called into remembrance of Sister Terry's words.  Now I've been having a time in the morning, getting into a place of praise and then being in the silence to hear what there is for me to hear at this time in my life.  I mean, how do I sit with all that's going on right now?  Where does forgiveness come from?  Why am I the one who has to forgive?  What's next?  These questions race through my head a million miles a minute.  Standing in a place of worship quiets these questions that plague my heart and my head.  I remember that deliverance comes with praise.

At some point yesterday afternoon, I swear that I'd sang every song that came through my head.  But I wasn't done yet.  I was brought to the remembrance of my old tattered praise and worship song book.  I grabbed it from its resting place and began to turn through it and, when a particular song hit me, began singing.

You are my hiding place, you always fill my heart with songs of deliverance.  I will trust in you.

And as the melodies coursed through me, these simple lyrics inspired by the Psalms were like a comforting balm for my soul.


He is our peace, who has broken down every wall.  He is our peace.  He is our peace.  

And I began to find peace.  I began to let go.  I released expectation and put it all in God's hands.


Cause me to come to thy river, o God.  Cause me to come.  Cause me to drink.  Cause me to live.


I understood that, despite what I might think or feel, recent events have brought me to my knees and have restored my faith.


Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.  

I put my trust in God.


Thou, O Lord, art a shield about me.  You're my Glory.  You're the Lifter of My Head.

Perhaps this is just what I needed.  Maybe I just needed a kick in the ass to get clear about what's important to me.   So I'm releasing any expectation of how things should be and I stand in the here and now trusting that all things will be just as they are meant to be.   I am not concerned about making something happen.  I step out in faith everyday knowing that the good I seek is seeking me.  At the edge of the abyss, I found the voice of God entreating me to jump.  This thing I'd thought to be for my destruction has actually brought me new life.  So I jump and allow it to be.

This afternoon, as I write this, my eyes fall to my open bible and rest on this promise... the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.

So I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help (Psalm 121).  I lift my up my hands in total praise.  Amen.