My Echo on It's Own, Just Started Playing a Song.

I am wanting to practice Sabbath better in 2023.

I had no plans on Sunday afternoon.

Church had been sweet. Communion weekend. A heartbreaking, and beautiful symbol of the Lord Jesus' broken body 

and shed blood.

The pastor up front didn't rush into announcements the moment we had swallowed our juice.

(This is an answer to a secret prayer)

In worship I finally had some clarity about what God is asking of me in the new year. Make much of others. Die to self.

"THEY must become greater, I must become less" was what came to mind. A new take on one of my favorite verses:

"He must become greater. I must become less." 

- John the Baptist (John 3:30)

Making Room

In this past year I've realized that my heart is finally settled here. There is no longer the urgency of figuring out life in a new city, making friends, finding a church. 

It's time to tidy up. There are piles literal and figurative, that have been ignored. Now is the time to clear it out. 

Both in my soul - with things I realized are issues from my past that need the care of inner healing prayer this year.

And in my home.

My computer files and photos are chaos! The attic crammed with all of our parents passed on things. We'd rushed to ship with our own belongings at the beginning of Covid when we sold our LA home. I have boxes of papers and cards and things from the kids that have never been sorted and I've not dared to toss. I'm not a hoarder. But if this house were smaller, it would probably be starting to look like it!

All of this clutter is keeping me from living a life that is all that Jesus has offered me. The messes are getting in the way of fully being able to taste the purity and delight of all of his goodness.

It already January 15h. 

I'm not ready for it to be the middle of the month.

I missed my annual reflective week between Christmas and New Year and only returned to the US yesterday.

I poured a small glass of real wine and decided I'd go sit at my office desk.

Mess though it was.

I would resist the urge to tidy up just yet. 

As I walked through the doors I prayed,

Lord, how about I just sit

and you guide me 

in rifling through these items 

that have been laying here 

since before Christmas?

Before I sat down, SPONTANEOUSLY, the echo on my desk, 

(the one I've still never learned to use for myself)
started playing! It was a song I was unfamiliar with. 
It wasn't just playing a song. It was displaying the words. 

I sat down and watched the lyrics in holy amazement:

Audrey Assad

I Shall Not Want

From the love of my own comfort

From the fear of having nothing

From a life of worldly passions

    Deliver me O God

From the need to be understood  [okay, now she was hitting the nail in the head for me...]

From the need to be accepted     [ouch.]

From the fear of being lonely        

    Deliver me O God

    Deliver me O God

And I shall not want, 

I shall not want

When I taste Your goodness 

I shall not want

When I taste Your goodness 

I shall not want

From the fear of serving others

From the fear of death or trial

From the fear of humility

    Deliver me O God

    Deliver me O God

And I shall not want, 

I shall not want

When I taste Your goodness I shall not want

No, I shall not want, I shall not want

When I taste Your goodness I shall not want

When I taste Your goodness I shall not want

Riveted I listened. And I listened again. 

And then listened again as I sipped that small glass of wine.

I may be getting a late start to my New Year ritual: "Hearing from God" about my Word, or my Theme, or my goals for the year.

But this Sabbath afternoon, he confirmed very clearly that I was on the right track: 

Taste my goodness. 

Get rid of the garbage. 

This is a year of Deliverance.

(see the comments below for a version of the lyrics where you can fill in the blanks for what you fear or need. 

I'm making my own version!)