Cry in the Night
In my distress, I called upon the Lord, and cried to my God for help; He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry for help before Him came into His ears. - Psalm 18:6
- - -
Every once in a while, my daughter will cry out in her sleep. When I hear her sweet, vulnerable voice, for that brief moment I seem to exit safety and enter some place of fierce battle. Even if it's literally for only one or two seconds, my reality quite simply changes when she cries.
She did it last night several times, and as I sat there listening to the baby monitor, I thought... I've made those sounds before too. In my prayers, or in times of loneliness or despair, in fear or confusion. And when my heart has made those sounds, when it has uttered its grief and its longings, the Lord has heard me. He has heard every cry in the night.
- - -
For those who don't know me well, here's a little bit of my story.
I was born into a loving home made of two parents who loved and served the Lord. My grandparents also had personal relationships with Christ, so it follows that much of what I remember about growing up was good, safe, and filled with light. No family is ever completely perfect, but ours was formed and sustained by daily prayer and bread - and I always knew that. Home was a safe place for me. My parents are still together after 37 years, and as an adult, they've become two of my best friends. The Lord has blessed me richly with this heritage.
My brother and I were always in church, and we were offered every opportunity to go to summer camps, mission trips, choir tours, winter retreats, etc... Hundreds of pictures from those years testify to a full adolescent life, and I'm grateful.
But even with a godly heritage and good opportunities, I still had to wrestle out my own faith with fear and trembling. I had to come to the point on my own where I asked Jesus Christ to be my Lord. And as with all of us, making that choice was only the beginning.
There are depths of love that lie only on the other side of the altar.
- - -
Lord, all my desire is before You; and my sighing is not hidden from You. - Psalm 38:9
My home was a safe place, but junior high was not. I can't honestly say that I was bullied, especially given what the term means today - but there was certainly a dynamic spiritual battle going on, and in the chaos of the emotional warfare my heart was injured and broken. It is still hard for me to remember those years, without something inside me seizing up.
But the Lord redeemed those years... and He did it by drawing near. During junior high is really when I began talking to God, like a friend. I learned a lot about His heart during those years, and I also learned a lot about my own. The loneliness I experienced did change me, and there were some insecurities that developed during those years that have left their mark on me - but the Lord is a healing God, and He has been faithful.
High school was much better, but although I had plenty of friends, I still struggled with loneliness. I often felt like the "odd man out" in social situations, although on the surface everything about me looked and acted normal. I'm aware now as an adult that the spiritual war was still waging, and the enemy was doing his best to keep me feeling isolated. Regardless - I began deepening my faith by reading Scripture more habitually. A habit turned into a lifestyle... and a lifestyle turned into a love.
I loved to play music and write, so I began to focus those expressions. At the age of 17, the Lord provided me with a platform to minister on, which I'd never sought before - and for the next several years, I traveled the country, playing songs and sharing my heart through songs and testimony. God went before me, prepared the way, and blessed those years incredibly. When His hand lifted and guided me elsewhere a few years later, I put away my guitar travel-case and moved forward into the next season. The music is still in my home and my heart, but I don't share it on a stage anymore for now.
The writing still grows dearer to me each day.
- - -
I love the Lord, because He hears my voice and my supplications. Because He has inclined His ear to me, therefore I shall call upon Him as long as I live. - Psalm 116:1-2
There's no way for me to count the tears during all the seasons of loneliness and heartache, but I know as surely as I'm alive that the Lord has counted every single one. I also know that it has been by those very same numbered tears that I've come to love Him above all others. Adulthood has carried its own share of glories and difficulties, but this truth remains paramount: My heart was once broken, but my Savior came to heal it. That is my story... it started with Him, it continues with Him, and it will end with Him.
So when my daughter cries out in the night, I hear and remember. The way this mother loves my baby is nothing compared to the way my Father has loved me. He has known every smile, every tear, every moment of joy and sadness.
And He alone has answered my cry in the night.
- - -
Every once in a while, my daughter will cry out in her sleep. When I hear her sweet, vulnerable voice, for that brief moment I seem to exit safety and enter some place of fierce battle. Even if it's literally for only one or two seconds, my reality quite simply changes when she cries.
She did it last night several times, and as I sat there listening to the baby monitor, I thought... I've made those sounds before too. In my prayers, or in times of loneliness or despair, in fear or confusion. And when my heart has made those sounds, when it has uttered its grief and its longings, the Lord has heard me. He has heard every cry in the night.
- - -
For those who don't know me well, here's a little bit of my story.
I was born into a loving home made of two parents who loved and served the Lord. My grandparents also had personal relationships with Christ, so it follows that much of what I remember about growing up was good, safe, and filled with light. No family is ever completely perfect, but ours was formed and sustained by daily prayer and bread - and I always knew that. Home was a safe place for me. My parents are still together after 37 years, and as an adult, they've become two of my best friends. The Lord has blessed me richly with this heritage.
My brother and I were always in church, and we were offered every opportunity to go to summer camps, mission trips, choir tours, winter retreats, etc... Hundreds of pictures from those years testify to a full adolescent life, and I'm grateful.
But even with a godly heritage and good opportunities, I still had to wrestle out my own faith with fear and trembling. I had to come to the point on my own where I asked Jesus Christ to be my Lord. And as with all of us, making that choice was only the beginning.
There are depths of love that lie only on the other side of the altar.
- - -
Lord, all my desire is before You; and my sighing is not hidden from You. - Psalm 38:9
My home was a safe place, but junior high was not. I can't honestly say that I was bullied, especially given what the term means today - but there was certainly a dynamic spiritual battle going on, and in the chaos of the emotional warfare my heart was injured and broken. It is still hard for me to remember those years, without something inside me seizing up.
But the Lord redeemed those years... and He did it by drawing near. During junior high is really when I began talking to God, like a friend. I learned a lot about His heart during those years, and I also learned a lot about my own. The loneliness I experienced did change me, and there were some insecurities that developed during those years that have left their mark on me - but the Lord is a healing God, and He has been faithful.
High school was much better, but although I had plenty of friends, I still struggled with loneliness. I often felt like the "odd man out" in social situations, although on the surface everything about me looked and acted normal. I'm aware now as an adult that the spiritual war was still waging, and the enemy was doing his best to keep me feeling isolated. Regardless - I began deepening my faith by reading Scripture more habitually. A habit turned into a lifestyle... and a lifestyle turned into a love.
I loved to play music and write, so I began to focus those expressions. At the age of 17, the Lord provided me with a platform to minister on, which I'd never sought before - and for the next several years, I traveled the country, playing songs and sharing my heart through songs and testimony. God went before me, prepared the way, and blessed those years incredibly. When His hand lifted and guided me elsewhere a few years later, I put away my guitar travel-case and moved forward into the next season. The music is still in my home and my heart, but I don't share it on a stage anymore for now.
The writing still grows dearer to me each day.
- - -
I love the Lord, because He hears my voice and my supplications. Because He has inclined His ear to me, therefore I shall call upon Him as long as I live. - Psalm 116:1-2
There's no way for me to count the tears during all the seasons of loneliness and heartache, but I know as surely as I'm alive that the Lord has counted every single one. I also know that it has been by those very same numbered tears that I've come to love Him above all others. Adulthood has carried its own share of glories and difficulties, but this truth remains paramount: My heart was once broken, but my Savior came to heal it. That is my story... it started with Him, it continues with Him, and it will end with Him.
So when my daughter cries out in the night, I hear and remember. The way this mother loves my baby is nothing compared to the way my Father has loved me. He has known every smile, every tear, every moment of joy and sadness.
And He alone has answered my cry in the night.
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