“Part the Waters, Lord”

One of the best parts of my Evangelical heritage is the music–four part hymns, solid Gospel and contemporary Christian recording artists such as the Gaither Trio, Keith Green, Second Chapter of Acts, Michael Card, and Evie Turnquist. (In one of my most rebellious moments, I sneaked a contraband cassette tape of Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours.” I don’t remember actually playing it — just having it in my room was enough.)

My taste in music is quite a bit more eclectic now — from Big Band sounds to Top Forty with a smattering of alternative and international and show tunes. Give me a little Cole Porter or Jennifer Warnes, and I’m a happy girl.

Unless I’m not — and then I drag out the big guns.  Like this one:

When I think I’m going under, part the waters, Lord.
When I feel the waves around me, calm the sea.
When I cry for help, O hear me, Lord, and hold out Your hand.
Touch my life, still the raging storm in me.

Knowing You love me through the burden I must bear,
Hearing Your footsteps lets me know I’m in Your care,
And in the night of my life You bring the promise of day,
Here is my hand, show me the way.

When I think I’m going under, part the waters, Lord.
When I feel the waves around me, calm the sea.
When I cry for help, O hear me, Lord, and hold out Your hand.
Touch my life, still the raging storm in me.

Knowing You love me helps me face another day.
Hearing Your footsteps drives the clouds and fear away;
And in the tears of my life I see the sorrow You bore,
Here is my pain, heal it once more.

When I think I’m going under, part the waters, Lord.
When I feel the waves around me, calm the sea.
When I cry for help, O hear me, Lord, and hold out Your hand.
Touch my life, still the raging storm in me.

by Charles F. Brown

(If you’d like to hear it, here’s a YouTube version I recently came across.)

Last week was a difficult week. A time for letting go of a lot of things, some of them easier to relinquish than others. To add to the challenge, a dear friend of mine was faced with one of the most difficult choices of her life, the consequences of which were serious indeed. I prayed with her, then asked my friends to join me in praying for a miracle.

At times like this, when someone else is really hurting, it really puts things in perspective. I may not have gotten that job that I wanted so very much (still haven’t heard yet, but it doesn’t sound promising) . . . but I do have a husband and kids who love me dearly, no matter what.  We have enough to pay the bills (if we’re careful), and I’m almost done with the degree, and even if I don’t get THIS job I’m confident the right opportunity will come when the time is right.

Sometimes when I ask the Lord to “part the waters,” it turns out the puddles weren’t all that deep, after all. And that, too, is a kind of mercy.