Save us, please.
Hosanna in the Highest.
You are Mighty to save.
You do not have to share my spiritual beliefs. This is my prayer.
Even before setting foot in a church in my older years, as a child I knew God. He has been with me and I have argued continuously with Him:
‘Why is it when we are in sinking holes, they seem to go deeper? Why is it, when we are good, crap befalls us?
Sickness comes. It revisits. Or progresses. We give love, and receive hate. Mischievous hands stir strife against us. Those we love walk away from us?’
Some of us accept certain answers long posited by philosophers of old. Others of us, like me, don’t. At university, I explored and considered the myriad of theories behind the question. Despite my love for philosophy, I know that I will probably never accept any of the proposed answers.
Only one thing is certain with me, in the final analysis, I still believe in a higher power (for good reason too) and it is all I have when all is stripped away by the whirlwinds of severe depression.
Our lives, my life are fickle. As the songwriter wrote, we are “like flowers quickly fading, we are like vapours in the wind…”
So many, so so many, like my loving, dearly missed friend Catherine have departed prematurely. She had a passion for life. My cousin Dale. Friend Bert, brutally murdered. I don’t understand.
Yet, so many others, like me, remain. I could have departed too, they could have had my chance, but I do not know why He continues to keep me.
I find arguing with Him beneficial. He answers and sends with people with confirmation. I’m almost no longer surprised.
But, as my scars remain deep and challenges mount, faith is tested.
Someone I barely know, miles away, was sent to share a story with me that gave some hope at a most appropriate time. I hope it will do the same for many of you who have confided in me that the despair seems to have no end in sight.
I have something more to share with you on another day when I’m feeling a little better. Damn you pain, panic attacks, severe exhaustion and rippling heartache. It is much. But nevermind. Hosanna. Saviour.
Sing a song of hope
Until I can share my tips with you, I want you to sing. Sing loud. Turn up the music of hope.
Hill Song, originally led by the lovely Darlene Zschech has inspired me for years, and I had forgotten how their music jolted me…picked me up….more powerfully than sermons or physical arms, when I lay locked in a dark room for days without food, in a foreign country on my own, with only one end in sight. Besides the video at the top you can try a few of my other favs, Hosanna and Age to Age.
Whatever religion you are, give it a try, sing, until I come to you again my loving. A little faith and fight on your end, while we hold eachother’s hands.
Despite dwindling faith and diminishing will, we will rise, on eagle’s wings. We must believe though we can see no evidence of it. This is having faith. Don’t ask me how, why or when. Just believe and continue walking forward. There must be a reason why we are still here. I am trying to put the full stop there.
Healing prayers for Darlene Zschech who wrote many of those spirit filled songs that have kept me till now, when real friends have been few and I could have failed miserably.
Gentle hugs:) keep faith and fighting.