A Person not a Principle / Mountains and Music

I suppose it’s really against all rules of good writing to give a post two titles.  Well, forget the rules. This post has two titles because I like them both.

This weekend was a little discouraging.  We had a great time visiting family, but we also got news that the two opportunities that we had been hoping for, banking on, figuring that at least one was a sure fit, were a closed door. Within a few days our plans of either/or turned to nothing/nothing.  The first disappointment was actually the one I’d hoped for most, but it didn’t really discourage me, because I guess I figured we still had door #2.  When door #2 closed, coupled with being pregnant, sick, and recovering from Friday’s migraine…well, you can picture it because you’ve probably been there yourself.  Tears.  It wasn’t that these are the only opportunities in the whole world, it’s just that it felt like a crowning disappointment on a year of disappointments.  I felt like we were “due” for some good news.  We’re due for a breakthrough, right?  I mean, we’re due!  Yeah, in God’s economy no one’s due.  We’re all sinners saved by grace and deserve nothing other than everlasting torment, but in His graciousness He saves and loves and bestows blessing on us as He sees fit.

So on our drive home, in a vague state of general defeated downness, we slid in a CD that my sister-in-law recently made me for my birthday.  Dutch was happy reading a book, and I was driving as to ward off nausea.  As I sang the words to this song by Misty Edwards, we rounded a bend and a huge (as if that word can even begin to describe the vastness) mountain appeared, crisp and white and jagged against the bright blue sky.  We sang, “See the way He holds the stars in His hands.  See the way He holds my heart.”  I was stunned envisioning God’s magnificent hands fashioning that very mountain, His gentle powerful touch.  His attention, His care, His omnipotence.  Could He not take care of us as well?  The hands that hold the stars are certainly capable of providing for my little family.  As that song ended, Casting Crown’s Praise You in the Storm began to play.  I knew the song, so immediately tears began to slowly roll down my cheeks as I sang the words with conviction:

I was sure by now,God, that You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away,
stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
and it’s still raining
as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
“I’m with you”
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away.

Chorus:
And I’ll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
—-

Then, with the mountain still in view, this verse played, the same passage I’d had in my heart all afternoon:

I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

As the mountain sank out of sight behind us, I still felt tired, disappointed, unsure about the future, but I knew that if I clung to Jesus, truly clung closer and closer, I would feel myself in His hand, sense Him at my side, know the peace of His presence.  And that’s when I realized that biblical principles will never do.  They are fine and good, but when the world is falling down around us, no biblical principles will calm the storm in our heart.  Jesus is the only One who will do. He is the only One who will change our hearts, transform our circumstances, renew our perspective and give us peace and hope.  A Person is what we need, not a principle.  I’m thankful for platitudes and helpful reminders, but when I need the storm calmed in my life, I will not recite a principle, I will run to Jesus, who is in the boat with me, and wake Him up and cry for help.  Even if I’m rebuked for having little faith, I will run to Him as best as I can and let Him calm the storm.  He is all I need.

So today I’m left thankful for mountains and music.  The beauty of God’s magnificent creation and the life-changing power of divine music is truly a source of revelation of the beauty and power and magnificence of God.  Let’s never underestimate either.  And I’m left thankful for a Person.  Sometimes even my clever quips will fail, my trusted truisms, my supposed scriptural promises won’t make sense sometimes.  But God is real. He is constant, and He is a Person.  And He is what I reach for, when I can’t see my way.  I’m thankful that my God is real, even in the storm.