Sunday, January 10, 2010

Old Song, New Meaning


It's too cold today to go to church. The wind is blowing about 20 mph and with the wind chill factor, it feels like six degrees outside. On top of that, the roads are still pretty icy and we don't want to risk driving with the baby. We haven't been out, except for a brief drive, for a couple of days which is making me very homesick. Not getting out to church is also making me really miss our church community at home, Evergreen Baptist Los Angeles. Along with this homesickness comes a small case of the blues. I got in the shower this morning trying to force myself to shake them, but to no avail. Finally, I gave up trying to pep talk myself and just started to repeat "Lord, help me. Lord, help me". This eventually led me to my knees in the shower with the water flowing over my head (and occasionally, up my nose). All I could say was "Jesus, I need you". As I said this and some other words of surrender, a song came back to me that I wrote with a childhood friend when I was eight years old. We used to love to dance and make up songs and one day, we decided that we wanted to write a worship song. As I knelt in the shower repeating "Jesus, I need you", these lyrics came back to me like a bolt of blue. They are trite and silly to an adult but as a child, they meant the world to me.

Jesus, we need you/ we really, really need you
The things you make/ the oceans and the lakes
Jesus, you made the sharks and the ark
You gave us wood to build a house/and then we found a mouse
Great are your works oh Lord
Yeah, Yeah
Great are you works oh Lord
We need you
Great are your works oh Lord
All the time
Great are your works oh Lord
Save us from sin

The rhyming is awful as is most of the song but the things I pull out as a 29 year old are very deep: Jesus, we need you, you made all things, your works are great, you are always great, you save us from our sin! I think this little song will be my mantra as I continually ask God for help during this transition. It's no "Blessed Be Your Name" but I know that God accepts it and is pleased by it nonetheless.

3 comments:

Andrew and Amy Huang said...

Hey Jaime! Hang in there! You guys made a giant leap of faith going all the way to Georgia, but I'm totally excited for you guys and what's to come! :)

It'll be hard, and it might not get easier, but if God is for us than who can be against us. :) Gather together with your hubby and sing praises together and listen to Evergreen podcast :) You guys will feel right at home.. especially as you guys may not have the opportunity to go out! We're all thinking of you guys!

Maybe this might cheer you up, but here's the link the the pictures we took. I don't know if you ever had a chance to download it but hopefully you can no, if you didn't before.

http://ax2d.com/downloads/HandleyFamily.zip

Anonymous said...

Hi Jaime!

What you are feeling is totally normal and it will pass! Moving to Georgia takes guts and I know that you'll look back on this and be so glad that you did it. Whenever you accomplish something and step out of the box, it's scary but well worth it. I bet a few months from now that homesickness will subsided and you will feel so lucky to have taken this new exciting step in your life. Love you!!

Alyssa

PS I felt the same way when I first moved to DC and Italy, and to this day they were two of the most amazing times in my life that were well worth it!!!

Griselda Johnson said...

Jaime, a move is never easy. Be strong and courageous. I pray you are surrounded by a church family and new moms in the area to support you and walk with you.

"What Great Grief Has Made the Empress Mute" June Jordon - Poetess

Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity

Because people kept asking her questions
Because nobody ever asked her anything

Because marriage robbed her of her mother
Because she lost her daughters to the same tradition

Because her son laughed when she opened her mouth
Because he never delighted in anything she said

Because romance carried the rose inside of a fist
Because she hungered for the fragrance of the rose

Because the jewels of her life did not belong to her
Because the glow of gold and silk disguised her soul

Because nothing she could say could change the melted music of her space
Because the privilege of her misery was something she could not disgrace

Because no one could imagine reasons for her grief
Because her grief required no imagination

Because it was raining outside the palace
Because there was no rain in her vicinity