A Hymn

I went to church for our lenten service tonight. I must admit, I'm not a huge fan of church, but I looove lent. I wish I was home to be a part of it here for the entire season.

We sang a hymn that I really liked. There was something about God's character that really stood out to me in the way it developed. The speaker starts out feeling like God has abandoned her; she wants God to be big and rescue her from the confusion and hurt and darkness she is experiencing. As the song progresses, God doesn't do anything God wasn't doing before, but the change happens in the speaker's awareness. She talks about God as the one that is holding her heart in its present state of weariness, not just taking the weariness away. God is suffering with her, and in having someone to suffer with, she is freed to have hope. She can see now that she was never abandoned, which is what she seems to have been most afraid of. And it is in her suffering that she grows and understands that God's comfort comes not from quick rescue, but from  being held and loved persistently through the process of healing.

O God, why are you silent? I cannot hear your voice;
the proud and strong and violent all claim you and rejoice;
you promised you would hold me with tenderness and care.
Draw near, O Love, enfold me, and ease this pain I bear.

My hope lies bruised and battered, my wounded heart is torn;
my spirit spent and shattered by life’s relentless storm;
will you not bend to hear me, my cries from deep within?
Have you no word to cheer me when night is closing in?

Through endless nights of weeping, through weary days of grief,
my heart is in your keeping, my comfort, my relief.
Come, share my tears and sadness, come, suffer in my pain,
oh, bring me home to gladness, restore my hope again.

May pain draw forth compassion, let wisdom rise from loss;
oh, take my heart and fashion the image of your cross;
then may I know your healing, through healing that I share,
your grace and love revealing your tenderness and care.