Complete Abandon with My Jesus
(This is part of a song I wrote in college)
Twirling in a sundress, singing pretty,
thinking of honey & the bumble bee.
Oh how sweet the taste is of Jesus.
Father you're lovely for making me.
Cause I know that this is love.
For I see it in your eyes.
Yes I know that this is love,
cause it's been there all my life.
Strumming my guitar as I sat on my daybed with the high morning sun warming my room. When my heart ached, I would pull out my ole Washburn & dog eared green spiral notebook to begin scratching down lyrics & chords. The same was true the morning of my wedding. I gave my roommates explicit instructions of not letting anyone in, because I just needed time to sing & play.
When I sing, I feel complete abandon. I let my fingers strum smoothly or clumsily; as I sing in cadence or fill in with some "mmm's," because my Jesus doesn't take score. When I sing, I feel like Lucy riding on the back of Aslan, stroking his mane. She knew how to plunge right in.
I often forget that place; but, as a little girl, I knew that place all too well. I knew my Jesus. I wasn't ashamed of him. I simply loved him for who he was & who he said I was. But, like any story, the world's waves came crashing down on my seven year old heart. What I knew of this world was Jesus' goodness. I had an untainted love & pride for him that came out through my boldness in speaking & song.
In the second grade, I signed up to sing for my school's talent show. The song I chose was 'Arky, Arky.' I knew that song backwards, forwards, upside & in between. I could sing it in my sleep. My eagerness to sing for all my peers about Jesus were riding high, until the principal informed my teacher that I was not allowed to sing the song.
It's because it was "religious." In my seven year old head I began to question what would make this song bad, because that's what they were communicating (children can read between the lines). Was there something to be afraid or ashamed of? Was I not suppose to love my Jesus like I did? Was it not cool? Did others really think my Jesus wasn't all love & goodness? Did they view him like the White Witch did toward Aslan, because my Lucy heart couldn't quite comprehend it.
As my mom thwarted the principal's plan, I was given the chance to sing again. It was the day of the talent show, which meant all the kids performing would do a practice run for a school assembly...the whole school. My teacher leaned in to tell me that I would be going next, but my heart stopped. I couldn't sing. I couldn't remember the words to the song. I seriously forgot them. I looked at her with more than stage fright eyes, "I don't remember the words right now. I can't!"
It was at that moment when the serpent of the garden came whispering the lies. The lies that my Jesus wasn't really good. The lies that I shouldn't want to love him so much. The lies that spread into anxiety that circulate fear and bring death to the soul. It was my first encounter of not inexplicably trusting Jesus' love.
The evening of the talent show came. I was in my blue dress with fear in my eyes & dread in my heart. My mom saw it all, and although I wanted to wake up the next morning with no recollection of singing, she wouldn't let me. She saw the fear, but she pushed me, because she knew deep down...I would regret it if I didn't.
I slowly walked up the steps and across the stage to the center. I felt like Noah, stepping out in faith--would God be there? The curtains began to open, I imagined running before anyone saw me. The crowd seemed to have tripled since I got there. Just like Noah, building that ark, having the multitudes laugh & scoff at him...God was present. As the music started, I looked out in the crowd and only saw one lady.
She had long blonde hair and the biggest, brightest smile that lit up the room, and my soul. I sang as if she was the only one in the cafeteria. My hands went through the motions, smile beamed on my face & my lungs breathed in & out with charisma. The audience cheered. My heart leapt and I quickly ran down the steps to see that lady....
...but she wasn't there.
I don't know if she was a mother who had to quickly tend to her child, or an angel in the flesh. What I do know is that God gave me a gift at the young age of seven. It was him saying, "Oh, my sweet little Kamille. Don't believe those lies. Don't let that fear seap into you. You are my beloved & you listen to who I say you are, not anyone else. You have nothing to fear."
Friends, we have nothing to fear with our Jesus. His love is safe & good, never failing & casts out that fear in the darkest of nights. Sing your heart to him and he will shower you with his unrelenting love.
What fears have you/are you facing?
Where do you need or have you seen His Relentless Love in the midst of your fears?
This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 1st in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across the miles, across the generations, across the hearts that are His.
To read more of the posts, click here.